When The World Comes Down
by CSI Dork
Summary: Do not read unless you have read All Quiet On The Demon Front!   A week on and Dean is becoming increasingly worried about Sam, behaving almost as though nothing ever happened in the first place. Where is Castiel when you need him?
1. Prologue

**Summary: A week on from Molly's death and Dean is becoming increasingly worried about Sam, behaving almost as though she never existed in the first place. Where is Castiel when you need him? **

**Sorry, pants summary as always!**

**A/N - Ok, so I had every intention of posting this story when I had actually finished it but I loved writing the first installment so much that I found myself missing the characters. This one probably won't go as well as the last but if you chose to check this out after reading the first one then YAY :) you made my day. **

**Again, aside from the impending apocalypse and Lucifer's involvement, this story has pretty much no relevance to Season 5 especially as I still haven't seen most of the second half of the season. I have to wait until September for the DVD cos I don't have cable TV and my designated recording person couldn't record it for me! Booo!**

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**Prologue**

The rainbow shafts of light that illuminated the small warehouse office seemed to penetrate through Castiel's skin, each of the colours filling him with a new emotion. Sunshine yellow, cerulean blue, electric pink, pure white. Happiness, trepidation, urgency, peace.

He found himself staring at the silhouette of the person in the doorway. Just an image projected from an uncalculable distance. Castiel had never actually seen his Creator, suspected that this was not what He really looked like, but he knew who it was, he had been searching for this very person for quite some time now.

'Father,' Castiel said for what he thought was the second time. He was so perplexed and elated that time seemed to be warped and actions blurred into one another.

The figure in the doorway did not speak, had no voice, but Castiel could sense every word. The time to communicate between one another was limited, the figure just an illusion projected by his Creator from a great distance.

Castiel made no move to interrupt as the message was relayed to him. He moved only to nod as the message became as clear as it was going to be. The task set of him no easy one, already fraught with complication.

Sam Winchester has a destiny.

You must make sure that destiny is fulfilled.

Find the soul.

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**A/N - OK, tell me what you think winces in trepidation **


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N - not a massively eventful chapter, but I like to take my time setting things up where I can to at least try n making the writing sound good LOL. Enjoy...**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Dean Winchester sighed, rolling his empty beer bottle between his palms, the bottom of it rattling on the cheap dining table. Glancing out of the window into the blackness of the night he saw how little life seemed to be outside. Looking across the room at where his brother lay he felt the same way he had felt for days now. Uneasy.

Sam had said very little since the incident in the warehouse. Correction, he had said _nothing_, spending his time simply lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. Aside from the odd time when he got up to use the bathroom, Sam had not moved from his bed. He lay atop the covers, fully clothed, just staring at the ceiling fan that spun around at a monotonous rate.

If it were not for the few times Sam appeared to drift into sleep, Dean would have thought his brother was catatonic. He had attempted to make conversation with him but to no avail and he had given up three days into the silence. The only time he had actually heard anything uttered from Sam's mouth was when he was dreaming and it didn't take a genius to work out what he was dreaming about. Just the other night Dean had been shaken from his own slumber to the sound of Sam screaming her name…

Sometimes Dean wished they had never found Molly. That they had never found out about her heritage, the powers she possessed. He wished that Molly had never been found by the demons. He knew it was futile to think like this, Lucifer knew his weapon was out there, it was only a matter of time before he found her and in their line of work, it was unlikely that the brothers would never have crossed paths with her.

Speaking of the job, despite how different Sam and he were as far as brothers went, they had one thing in common in situations like this. Tragic as it was that this kind of thing was becoming a part of everyday life, Sam and he would usually deal with it by throwing an extra one hundred and fifty per cent into their work.

That hadn't happened this time.

When they came back from the warehouse that day, Sam had lay down on the bed and the whole repetitive process had begun. Dean didn't feel uneasy because he was worried about Sammy. He had stopped worrying a couple of days ago, realising it would be the death of him – again. He was uneasy because of a different feeling.

He felt powerless.

Powerless was not something Dean was used to feeling and it set him on edge. He contemplated grabbing his brother by the shoulders, shaking him hard and giving him a bitch slap across the face. Something told him that wouldn't work. He didn't know what to do. Perhaps there was a spell for a broken heart, a grieving soul, whatever you wanted to call it. Dean was just grateful that Sam hadn't gone looking for Lucifer, begging him to bring Molly back to life. Dean knew all too well that bargaining with the supernatural for the life of a loved one never ended well.

The sound of a guitar riff crept into the room, increasing in volume as the seconds passed. Dean pulled his phone as quickly as he could from his pocket and then rolled his eyes at himself. Whether Sammy was asleep or awake, it would make no difference how loud his ringtone got.

He cast a quick glance at the phone to identify the caller and flipped it open.

'Hey Bobby,' he said, his voice gruff from a lack of use having had no one to converse with for a week.

'Hey Dean, how's your brother doing?' came the familiar voice of Bobby Singer.

'Same old,' Dean said, glancing over at Sam again. He noticed his eyes were closed at last. 'I think he's sleeping.'

'He said anything yet?'

Dean shook his head then realised he was on the phone and needed to verbalise. 'No, I don't know what to do Bobby, do I leave him, let him deal in his own way until he gets it out of his system?'

'I don't know, boy. You talked to him about hunting?'

Dean caught himself shaking his head again. 'Uh, no. I haven't spoken to him about anything never mind hunting. Bobby, it's driving me crazy.'

'I got a hunt if you want one,' Bobby said, the tone in his voice suggesting he knew Dean would love nothing more than to take a case.

'I'm listening,' Dean said, feeling more awake than he had in days. Watching Sam do nothing was hard work.

'Couple of towns over, all the signs of a spirit, you're the closest hunter in the vicinity, what do you say?'

'You never know maybe the promise of some research will get that kid out of the state he's in,' Dean said, with a mirthless chuckle. 'You know Sammy and research. Give me the details and I'll check it out in the morning.'

Bobby relayed the name of the town, two apparent victims who had died mysteriously (like Dean hadn't heard_ that_ one before!) and a brief description from an eye witness to one of the deaths who was currently holed up in a psychiatric ward. As he scribbled the information messily onto a motel notepad, Dean wondered fleetingly if he should see if the psych ward had space for Sam, the way he was behaving. Then again, how did one explain to a psychiatrist that his brother was going through some serious moping because the woman he loved sacrificed herself to protect him from Lucifer.

As difficult as he had found it to see eye-to-eye with Molly, he understood why she had done it and in a way he was grateful. Sam meant everything to him and he couldn't bear for Lucifer to possess his body. Dean had realised, far too late, that Molly and he shared something in common – the need to protect Sam. Right now though it felt as if Sam was protected from nothing, he was clearly in a lot of pain that no amount of shoulders to cry on and hard liquor was going to ease.

'Thanks Bobby,' Dean mumbled into the phone, fatigue taking over him, before flipping it shut.

He dumped the empty bottle in the trash and went to his own bed, stripping off his jeans and socks before climbing underneath the covers. Lying on his back, he wondered what solace Sam could possibly be finding in the poorly painted ceiling. Dean turned his head to take one more cautionary look at Sam, deciding that he would attempt to contact the mother ship again in the morning before turning his back on his brother and slipping into his own slumber.

When he woke the next morning, his brother's bed was empty.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N - For PsychoBunny1309, thanks for being the first reviewer and for being so enthusiastic about there being a sequel (personally I wasn't sure LOL) and for the unknown people who are following the story judging by the hit counter. You all rock :)**

**Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, a bit uneventful again but there will be action soon I promise. **

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**Chapter Two. **

Dean sat bolt upright when he rolled over and saw that Sam was no longer lying in the next bed. Shooting a look in the direction of the bathroom, he saw that the door was half open but there was no sound of the shower going. Sam wasn't even in the room.

Feeling an odd sense of panic taking over him, Dean threw back the covers and hopped out of his bed.

'Think about this, Dean,' he mumbled to himself. 'Maybe he just went out.'

Experience had taught him that it was very rare for there to be a rational explanation when either of them went missing. Exhaling irritably, Dean snatched his cell phone from the bedside table and scrolled down the numbers until he got to Sam's. He hit the call button with some ferocity before slamming the phone against his ear.

'Pick up Sam, pick up,' he willed as the first two rings came down the line.

He heard the first two bars of an acoustic song he didn't know the name of fill the room. Searching with his eyes, he saw that Sam's phone was on the dining table. He hadn't taken it with him.

Dean whirled around and threw his own phone on Sam's bed in anger.

'Jesus Christ!' he bellowed wishing that for once, life could just be simple.

'Don't let Cas hear you talking like that!'

Dean spun in the direction of Sam's unexpectedly cheerful voice and watched incredulously as his brother casually kicked the door closed with his foot whilst balancing a coffee cup carrier in one hand and a large paper bag in the other. From the smell of it, he had gone out to pick up breakfast.

'Where is Cas by the way?' Sam asked still sounding chirpy whilst placing the items down on the dinner table. 'We haven't seen him since…'

Since Molly died, Dean thought as his brother's voice trailed off and his eyes looked away. Dean knew Sam was attempting to be brave but at least now he was showing some kind of emotion.

'You went out for breakfast?' Dean asked, wandering over and sniffing the air near the paper bag. He hoped that the subject change would stop Sam from falling into his stupor again.

'Uh, yeah,' Sam said, clearing his throat. 'I picked up the greasiest breakfasts I could. I know what you're like and I was pretty damn hungry myself.'

He started picking out polystyrene take out trays and placing them on the table. To Dean's surprise, Sam hummed an undeterminable tune as he took each one out. It looked as though he had bought enough food for a small army.

'You alright, brother?' Dean asked as he lifted the lid on one tray to discover scrambled egg, sausage and bacon. His stomach growled demandingly.

'Yeah, sure,' Sam said quickly as he balled up the now empty paper bag and slam dunked it into the trash can from a distance.

Dean shrugged and sat down at the table, unable to wait much longer to devour the delicious smelling delights that Sam had fetched. He picked up a fork and took another quick look at his brother. Sam was sitting down and hungrily tucking into his own breakfast. Satisfied that maybe he really was alright for the time being, Dean began shovelling in his scrambled eggs.

After several minutes of hearing nothing but the sound of their forks catching on the take-out boxes and the occasional slurp of coffee, Dean decided that maybe they were fed enough to start talking.

'Sam?' he said, surprised at how cautious his own voice sounded.

'Mmm?' Sam mumbled in response, his mouth full of food.

'Not that I'm complaining, I'm glad you're back to normal, well as normal as you get, but what brought this on?'

Dean watched Sam's face waiting to see if there was any indication of a return to the wallowing. He didn't want to push him over the edge again. Sam smiled, humourlessly and shrugged his shoulders, placing his fork back down on the table.

'I don't know, I just figured maybe it was time.'

Sam blinked as he glanced at Dean and then focussed his attention back on his breakfast. He thought that Dean looked suspicious for a brief moment but no protest came where Sam expected one.

Having suddenly lost his appetite, Sam closed the lid of the take-out carton and pushed it to one side before sliding his laptop in front of him. He noticed how Dean paused in his eating for a moment to look at him as he opened the computer and woke it from hibernation.

'What're you doing?' Dean asked through a mouthful of sausage.

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. 'Research?'

To his surprise, Dean chuckled and returned to wolfing down his food. Breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't realised he'd been holding, Sam tapped on the keyboard and logged on. Opening the internet, he found the sites he'd bookmarked and began reading.

From the snippets of information Sam had found on the scrap of paper Dean had scrawled all over, Bobby had been right. Two towns over there were definite signs of one seriously angry spirit. The newspaper articles he had found online told of an attack on a sorority house that had left two students dead and a third hospitalised. Sam scanned the articles again, searching for the quote from the surviving student.

'A sorority house?' Dean exclaimed loudly from behind, making Sam jump. He had been so immersed in the article that he hadn't realised his brother was reading over his shoulder.

'Dean!' Sam snapped, irritably, his heart still thumping with the surprise.

He glanced up to see the familiar insinuating look that had crossed over Dean's face. Sam wanted to groan out loud in despair. Dean had read the word 'sorority' and his filthy imagination was already at work.

'Dude, this could be a hunt,' Sam reminded him.

'I know that,' Dean said, giving Sam a slap on his arm, indicating he should move out of the way so he could read the article more easily.

'Shortly before being committed to St Augustine's psychiatric hospital, Francesca Andrews claimed to have seen her fellow students thrown across the room by a 'dead woman'' Dean read aloud making air quotes at the same time.

'Andrews, so far the only chief suspect in the deaths, is currently being assessed at St Augustine's pending the results of a police investigation.' Sam finished. 'Poor girl.'

'Aw Sammy, you're far too sensitive,' Dean said slapping him playfully on the shoulder before moving over to his bed to pick up his bag.

Sam scowled feeling the anger boiling inside of him as Dean's comment returned the painfully recent image of Molly's death to the forefront of Sam's mind. He had every right to be sensitive. He fought the urge to demand to know what the hell Dean knew about being sensitive. Starting a fight was not his best option right now. Instead he chose to vent his frustration with one simple word.

'Jerk.'

Sam shut the lid of his laptop slightly harder than he intended to and began to store it away in his bag which hung from the back of his chair.

'Bitch,' Dean shot back with a smirk as he checked the ammunition in his pistol before putting it in his bag.

X X X

_Sam closed his eyes as he felt the gentle touch of Molly's fingertips against his cheek. He took a deep breath almost as though he were attempting to inhale everything about her. Every feeling, every scent, every image pieced together to create a whole, bring her back to life almost. If only he could…_

'_Look at me,' she said quietly, almost cautious. 'Please.'_

_He opened his eyes fighting against the pain he felt in his gut when he looked at her. He knew this wasn't real, it couldn't be. It was Lucifer playing tricks on him again, trying to get him to say yes. _

_Molly gripped his face on both sides with a gentle firmness, forcing him to look at her. He felt a single tear slip down his cheek as he found himself unable to break eye contact with her. Molly leaned forward and kissed the tear from his face before pressing her lips against his briefly. _

'_I love you, Sam,' she whispered. _

'YOU GOTTA FIGHT…FOR YOUR RIGHT…TO PART-AY!'

Sam woke with a start to the sound of Dean singing at the top of his poorly tuned voice. He didn't know if Dean had been singing that loudly the whole time he had been sleeping or whether it was for his benefit. Either way, Sam's head was fuzzy and his heart was racing.

After taking a moment to stretch his neck and wipe the moisture from his face as discreetly as he could, he cleared his throat and put on his best neutral face.

'Dude, Beastie Boys? Really?' he asked, turning the radio down.

Dean shrugged. 'It was on the station. Besides, we're going to a sorority house, got to get into the party mood.'

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's predictability as Dean chuckled heartily and turned the radio back up. Sam felt himself begin to relax a little. Dean's behaviour suggested that Sam's dream had not manifested into sleep-talking. His brother appeared indifferent to Sam's slumber.

'Actually,' Sam said, turning the volume down again. 'We're going to St. Augustine's first.'

'No,' Dean said, increasing the volume. 'We're going to the _Theta Beta Delta's_ house.'

Sam fought hard not to laugh at the high pitched female voice Dean imitated as he spoke the name of the house. Sometimes he really admired Dean's ability to remain amused when doing the job they did. It wasn't easy and Sam rarely found he was able to joke around. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he was too sensitive. He always did take the sensible route, raising Lucifer aside of course.

'I just think it makes more sense to check out the psych ward first,' Sam persisted, this time leaving the radio volume alone and instead raising his voice to be heard.

'Sammy,' Dean whined. 'Sorority chicks!'

'Dean,' Sam whined back. 'Eye-witness!'

Sam smirked as Dean pulled a face and shut the music off. He could have sworn he heard him mumble 'still a snot nosed kid,' before he turned the car around and headed back the way they came, clearly having not been far from the university.

'Crazy chicks it is,' Dean shot a disapproving look at his brother.

Dean almost wanted to congratulate himself on his own acting. Although he had genuinely been keen to check out the college chicks, he knew that researching the case had been the thing that had snapped Sammy out of his stupor. As much as he was in the mood for a party, he wanted to keep Sam focussed as long as possible.

Stealing a quick look to the passenger seat revealed that Sam was staring out of the window in that melancholy way that was so characteristic of him. He was under no illusions that Sam was miraculously over everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks but for the time being, he was just glad that they were on a case, like old times almost.

X X X

He watched the sleek black car pull into a parking bay at the front of the hospital. Within seconds of the engine shutting off, the two front doors creaked open and the familiar frames of Sam and Dean stepped out.

From where he stood, hiding behind the tree like a cowering human, Castiel could see the toll Molly's death had taken on Sam. His shoulders were a little more hunched, the shadows beneath his eyes a little darker. The smile he aimed at his older brother - undoubtedly a response to some sarcastic comment that Castiel could not hear – was weak, empty.

Castiel sighed but remained where he stood as he watched the two brothers jog up the steps to the entrance of the building, pulling fake IDs from their inside jacket pockets. They were already on the case.

All Castiel could do now was wait.

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**A/N - Have no idea why I chose Beastie Boys for Dean to sing along to, just thought it wouldn't be the best song to be woken up to (no offence to the beastie boys) plus I could just imagine Dean singing it _really _badly LOL. Gotta love him!**

**Hoping to get some action into the next chapter (my mind is on a roll now). **


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N - OK, so I know I said there would be action in this chapter, and there is action ahead, but I found that once my mind got flowing i had to end this installment where it does kind of for dramatic effect (or attempting dramatic effect) but also cause it breaks it up more. Sometimes my brain just goes where it wants to LOL. **

**Also, when you get to the end of the chapter please bear with me and thanks for still reading my random crap LOL. **

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**Chapter 3**

Dean nodded his thanks to the nurse as she gestured towards a young woman in a blue bath robe standing by the window. He let his eyes follow the nurse as she headed back to the nurses station, looking her up and down approvingly. It hadn't taken much to get their 'private investigators' façade accepted which had pleased him somewhat. From the look the young nurse had given him, he had managed to pull off the puppy dog look that Sam was so notorious for.

Having stood beside Dean whilst he delivered well-used lines, Sam had been no help whatsoever. The only reminder Dean had received that Sam was even with him was the movement he caught from the corner of his eye as Sam withdrew and displayed his fake credentials.

A sharp slap to Dean's arm brought him from his voyeurism of the nurse's bottom and back to the real world. He glanced up at his brother, two inches taller and shrugged his shoulders.

'What?' he said as innocently as possible.

He again received no response from Sam, just a mixed look of exasperation and disapproval. Dean wondered how long this was going to carry on and began to worry slightly that Sam may already be regressing back into the withdrawn state he had been less than twenty four hours previously.

Sam was already striding across the room to reach the woman who appeared not to have moved even slightly from her position in front of the window. Dean exhaled wearily and trotted to close the gap between his brother and himself. He figured if Sam was motivated to take on a case, he should be slightly grateful – it could only be a positive sign. The first step towards moving on. Still, he could help but be cautious.

The girl stood frozen to the spot, her eyes fixed on an unknown point in the outside world. Her blond hair flowed raggedly just below her shoulders and appeared as though it hadn't seen a hair brush or a shampoo bottle in days. Sam stepped forward forcefully enough that his footsteps could be heard but gentle enough so as not to startle her when he spoke.

That was his plan anyway. The girl looked the epitome of fragile and the last thing he wanted was to push her over the edge and be left without information.

'Francesca Andrews?' he said, softly, ignoring the tutting noise coming from Dean. He could almost hear his brother's eyes rolling. Not in the mood for a sarcastic comment about Sam being a girl, he chose to ignore his brother and try again when he got no response from Francesca.

'Francesca?' he said again, gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

She turned abruptly to face him, jumping back like a cat on a hot tin roof. Sam felt pity for her as he saw how her hands shook violently and her eyes darted from his face to Dean's.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,' Sam said, keeping his tone as comforting as possible. 'We just need to ask you a few questions.'

He waited patiently as Francesca attempted to compose herself. She crossed her arms, trapping her hands as if to stop her fingers from trembling and took another, smaller step away from him.

'Who are you?' she asked at last, her voice sounding gravelly as though she had not spoken very much recently.

'My name is Sam and this is my brother Dean,' Sam said, placing one hand on his chest and the other towards Dean in indication. 'We heard about what happened and we wanted to ask you some questions.'

'Why?' Francesca snapped, the defensiveness in her voice contradicting the terrified look on her face.

'Because we might be able to help.' Sam said, trying to sound as convincing as possible and wondering why Dean was so quiet, probably ogling the nurse again.

'No one believes me, that's the reason I'm in here, they all think I'm crazy,' she replied, widening her eyes on the word crazy and making a circular motion near her head with one finger.

If she was trying to make herself look less crazy, she was being exceptionally unsuccessful Sam thought before scolding himself inwardly for being such a jerk. The girl had clearly been through an ordeal.

'Believe me, lady,' Dean's gruff voice cut in at last. 'You'd be surprised at what we'd believe.'

'Yeah, give us a shot,' Sam said, doing his best not to glare at Dean and his insensitive tone.

Francesaca eyed them both suspiciously for a moment before shrugging wearily. Sam assumed she probably realised it wouldn't make any difference to her current situation for her not to talk.

'It was just over a week ago, some friends and I were goofing around, pretending to do a séance, - ,' she started.

'Yeah, because it's so sensible to goof around with that stuff,' Dean muttered sarcastically before Sam elbowed him in the ribs to shut up.

Francesca was either ignoring the comment or completely hadn't noticed as she carried on with her story.

'One of my friends, Leona, was doing the whole 'come, sprits and speak to us' routine,' she continued, putting on a dreary voice as if impersonating her friend. 'We were all drunk, just laughing at how stupid she sounded when the candles started to flicker. At first, we figured it was just the breeze from the window but when I went to close it – '

Sam could see the terror in her eyes as she paused in her recollection. Her eyes shone as tears filled them glistening against the redness already around her eye line, clearly from a huge amount of sobbing.

'What happened?' Sam prompted, placing a reassuring hand on her tense crossed arms.

'When I got there, the window wasn't even open,' Francesca's voice hitched. 'I think I realised then that something was wrong but Leona just laughed, called us wusses,' The corner of Francesca's mouth twitched into a sad smile. 'She carried on with the chanting and suddenly there was this woman in the room.'

Sam gasped as Francesca moved suddenly and gripped his hand so tightly it ached. The tears that had filled her eyes moments before now fell, dusting her cheeks as she spoke. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore how the fear in her eyes reminded him of Molly's as she knew she was close to death.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Dean shift slightly as though ready to protect him but he shook his head to tell him no to bother.

'She was dead, I could tell,' Francesca's voice was becoming higher pitched as she spoke between sobs. 'She…she had long black hair, deathly pale skin and her eyes….they just stared and stared but I could see…I could see the evil in them, the anger. The next thing I knew Leona was across the room, slamming into the wall. She must have hit her head because she never got up again and then…then Miley was next. Somehow the woman threw her through the window. It was so quick…' Francesca's voice almost broke as she finished her story. 'She didn't have time to scream.'

With that, the girl threw herself into Sam's chest and sobbed loudly. He wrapped his arms around her, wishing he could make her feel better but knowing he couldn't. Glancing at Dean, he could see amusement in his brother's eyes at Sam's slightly awkward situation.

'Shut up Dean,' he mouthed, hoping Francesca would calm down soon. He still had more he wanted to ask.

After a moment or two, he pulled her away from himself and lowered his head so that he was more on her level. It wasn't easy being tall sometimes.

'Francesca, did the woman say or do anything before or after she attacked your friends?'

She shook her head. 'No and by the time I heard Miley hit the ground outside, I was out of the door, running down the stairs. I fell and the next thing I knew, I was in hospital.'

Sam nodded. 'OK, thanks for your help. Feel better soon alright?'

Francesca nodded and wiped her eyes with her still trembling hands. Sam jerked his head to one side to indicate to Dean that he was ready to go. He nodded in acknowledgement and turned to follow Sam.

'Wait a minute,' Francesca said suddenly. 'It's the only way, that's what she said.'

'Are you sure?' Dean asked, turning back to face the girl.

She nodded. 'It's the only way, it's the only way, it's the only way.'

Francesca continued to repeat the phrase as she turned back to look out of the window. Sam felt his blood run cold for two reasons. Firstly, it pained him to see how easily a person could be broken by what he experienced as normal daily business, making him wonder how much of him was broken already and how much he had left to hold on to. Secondly, it was the words she repeated over and over…

'It's the only way?' Dean said, irritably as if it was the worst clue he had ever heard. 'What kind of lead is that? I told you we should have gone to the sorority house first.'

Sam followed behind Dean as they exited the building and his brother fished the Impala keys out of his pocket before glancing at his watch.

'I say we fuel up then get to the house just in time for the pillow fights,' Sam could hear him saying as he paused by the passenger side door.

Francesca's words echoed in his head. It's the only way….It's the only way…Sam closed his eyes both trying to shut out the sound of traumatised girl and to fight away the tears that threatened to fall.

There was no way….it couldn't be her.

Could it?

'Sam are you going to stand there all day? There's a bacon cheeseburger somewhere with my name on it and it's getting cold,' Dean shouted from inside the car.

He flinched slightly as Dean's complaining brought him back into focus. Without speaking he pulled open the passenger door and climbed inside, slamming it behind him. He ignored Dean's grumbling about the hinges as he shivered despite the warmth of the early summer evening.

It couldn't be…

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**A/N - if I keep going the way I am I should hopefully have the next chapter up by the end of the week. It's time for some ass-kicking I feel. **


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N - woohoo, if you've clicked this far, it means I didn't put you off with the last chapter and failing to provide the action I had promised. This chapter is pretty short, sorry, but I was hanging out the washing and it was writing itself in my head so I had to bash it out quickly before I forgot (inspiration comes at the most random of times)**

**Hope you enjoy, thanks for still reading :)**

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**Chapter 4. **

It couldn't be….could it?

Sam fought hard to keep his breathing under control as the thumping in his chest told him just how much he had been desperately hoping upon the tenuous possibility. His shotgun half-raised in anticipation he glanced quickly at Dean standing on the opposite side of the room his own weapon similarly poised. His older brother looked as though he were about to say something.

Then the lights flickered…

The hammering in Sam's chest worsened to the point where he could have sworn he almost felt pain. It couldn't be…it couldn't be…he repeated internally in some futile attempt to dissuade his own ridiculous notion knowing full well that his hopes had already been raised beyond rectification.

The apparition of the girl flickered to existence before him.

It wasn't her.

Sam couldn't be sure what devastated him more, having the obvious presented to him or the reminder that she was, in fact, gone and she was not coming back. Either way, it put him off his game, froze his instincts for a split second too long.

'Sam!' Dean's voice bellowed across the room in a surreal echoing manner as Sam felt his body pulled by an invisible force.

Landing harshly against the far wall, pain shuddering through his brain as the back of his head connected with the edge of the shelf he had noted upon first entering the room. It had been filled with picture frames of the girl in question in happier times.

Those frames now lay scattered across the floor as Sam slumped into a heap, the wooziness associated with concussion already beginning to wash over him.

It wasn't her….it wasn't her…

As his own thoughts rattled around his semi-conscious mind, Sam somehow found the strength to look up at his brother. Dean was reloading his shotgun having already discharged a round of rock salt buck shot at the ghost, temporarily dispersing her from the room.

'How you doing Sammy?' Dean called to him, glancing up from his weapon, his eyes locking with Sam's.

Sam couldn't respond as his eyes began to blur. He had just enough time to note the expression on Dean's face. Anger – at Sam's stupidity perhaps – but mostly suspicion.

Then everything went black.

'Shit Sammy,' Dean cursed, mostly to himself now that his younger brother was unconscious.

He didn't have time to run over and check on him. The ghost may have been gone for now but there was no telling how soon it would be before the dead chick returned. She was one ugly ass dead chick at that, Dean thought, lifting his shotgun ready to fire again as soon as the need arose. Lank black hair, her deathly white face contrasted by the red raw ligature marks around her throat. Her appearance hadn't particularly unsettled him, she was far from the first messed up spirit he had laid eyes on. It was Sam's face, in the brief instance he had glanced over at his brother that had frightened him more. Sam had stood frozen to the spot, had made no attempt to help fight the spirit. Dean would be having some serious words with him when he woke up.

'It's the only way,'

The voice dragged him back to the task at hand before he could worry any further about Sam's lack of battle response to the appearance of the ghost. Spinning around, Dean raised his shotgun and fixed his focus on the girl.

'It's the only way,' she said again, her voice desperate, almost pitifully so.

She looked afraid, her green eyes widened as though pleading for understanding. He raised his shotgun further, placing his finger on the trigger, taking a moment to commit as much information about her to memory as possible. It would come in handy when researching potential victims later, something his father had drummed into him from an early age. Her face changed instantly at his action, contorting with rage, her hand raising, forefinger pointing accusatorily towards him.

'It's the only way,' she screeched, her voice filling the room.

Before he had chance to apply pressure to his trigger finger, Dean felt himself succumb to the same fate as Sam. Cursing himself inwardly for taking so long to react, he flew through the air and slammed into the wall behind him. His arm connected with the doorframe and he lost his grip on his gun.

'Every freaking time,' he grumbled aloud, scrambling to his feet and reaching for the weapon.

It slid away from him as though pulled by an invisible cord, crashing into the far wall, beyond his reach. Almost simultaneously he was pinned against the doorframe, an imperceptible force pressing against his chest, rendering him immobile.

'Shit,' he hissed, realising he was trapped.

Experience had taught him not to panic in situations like this, he had gotten out of sticker ones. Unfortunately at the moment he was weapon less, Sammy was in the land of nod and he couldn't feel his toes, much less move his legs. Some serious 'outside of the box' thinking was necessary.

The girls face was suddenly millimetres from his own, her movement across the room non-existent. Her green eyes blazed into his own and for a brief second, not that he would ever admit it to himself let alone anyone else, Dean was slightly spooked.

'It's the only way,' she hissed again as he suddenly found himself unable to breathe.

Dean gasped loudly as he felt his windpipe closing in on him. He would have clutched at his own throat, had he been able to move.

'_Jesus, wake up Sammy,'_ he thought, as dark spots appeared before his eyes and his own choking noises sounded as though they were becoming further away. _'All is forgiven.'_

* * *

**A/N - all comments welcome though if you must flame, please use a low heat :) xx**

**PS - Sam won't be all mopey and pathetic for long but it was needed for the development of the story, plus I hate it on TV shows when people get over something traumatic in a week lol**_. _


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N - I'm baaack! Sorry its been a while, my life kinda gets taken over by work. I've been writing, just not publishing. Also I had some writers block moments trying to work out where I was headed as well as having the self-doubt moments that I'm so good at! Hope you enjoy the next couple of chapters. **

**A/N 2 - there are no more incidents of Dean singing you'll be happy to know! :)**

**Warning: brief reference to suicide in this chapter. **

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* * *

****Chapter Five.**

_Shit, _Dean thought to himself as it dawned on him he might not actually get out of the ethereal clutches around his throat. He was beginning to feel more and more lightheaded by the second. His eyelids became heavy as the spots in his eyes began to almost fully cloud his vision…

'Dean!'

The sudden, familiar bellow prevented him from fully succumbing to unconsciousness and he snapped his eyes open. Or rather, he tried to and failed miserably.

A loud crack of gunfire erupted followed seconds later by an inhuman screeching sound as the spirit dissipated for the second time that afternoon. The grip on Dean's throat vanished instantly and he felt a sharp sting in his chest before he slumped to the floor, the room spinning faster than it did after a marathon drinking session.

'Dude, are you alright?'

He glanced up to see Sam crouched before him, shotgun gripped loosely in his right hand. Dean took a moment or two to regain his senses before summoning as much strength as he could and punching Sam square on the jaw.

Sam stumbled onto his backside, his free hand instinctively drawing up to the side of his face which was already flaming red from the blow.

'Dean, what the hell?' he grumbled, his voice slightly muffled as he rubbed the side of his face.

'What the hell took you so long?' Dean snapped back, standing lethargically to his feet. 'And you hit me with stray rock salt. Man, that stuff stings.'

Sam could feel himself just staring at his brother as he dusted himself off and headed for the door. Dean was right; his reactions had been all over the shop on this case. He needed to get a grip. Dean turned in the doorway and shot him a look that said 'well, are you coming or what?'

Reluctant to piss his older brother off any more than he already had, Sam quickly scrambled to his feet and followed Dean out of the room and down the stairs.

'OK, so I say we head to the library, find out any girls who died in this dorm in the last decade,' Dean said, finally breaking the awkward silence as they reached the Impala outside.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he stopped and turned to Dean. 'Why the last decade?'

'Chick was wearing a concert t-shirt circa 1999,' Dean said, somewhat exasperatedly.

Sam just looked at him.

'What?' Dean shrugged, his palms turned upward. 'I'm not just a pretty face.'

'I don't know if I'm more stunned by your observance or the fact you suggested going to the library to research before I did,' Sam said, an attempt at humour.

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the driver side door open with a creak before pointing an authoritative finger at his brother.

'And don't think we're not going to talk about this later, I don't know what the hell happened to you in there Sammy, but it sure as hell isn't happening again!'

Sam stood silent for a few seconds as Dean climbed into the driver's seat and set the Impala rumbling to life. He sighed suddenly feeling a sense of dread washing over him. He knew he had been stupid and if he was honest, it had been the kick in the ass he had needed.

He turned to open the passenger door to the car when something caught his eye. He glanced towards it, across the street. There was nothing there.

He could have sworn that, for a split second, he had seen the flapping of an all too familiar trench coat.

Before Sam could begin contemplating answers to the multitude of questions he had about Castiel's whereabouts and why he could possibly be watching them, Dean revved the engine of the Impala. The angry rumbling of the car clearly reflected his brother's mood. Sam climbed in and shut the door just in time as Dean slammed his foot on the accelerator and they sped away from the sorority house.

X X X

Castiel sat motionless on the park bench, silently observing the families that came and went. The events of recent days plagued his mind, so uncharacteristic for him that he felt a sense of something he couldn't describe. Unease? Fear? It was a human emotion; something that was foreign to him, spending too much time with the Winchesters had probably affected him.

He hadn't yet been successful and he was accustomed to being able to carry out a task or a mission much faster than this. The thought added to the growing list of things he was feeling. This emotion was far easier to identify, he had seen Dean display it more than once – he was frustrated.

He didn't have long before the soul disappeared entirely.

Sam had almost seen him watching them, he was sure of it. The look of surprise on the young mans face as he had glanced towards him across the road confirmed it. Castiel knew they would be wondering where he was, what he was doing. The five voicemails from Dean said it all. Sam however, much to Castiel's surprise, had not called. He had expected that Sam would want to know the girl's resting place so that he could follow the usual human process of saying goodbye. He had not. If Sam was moving on already, it would not help Castiel to complete his mission.

Castiel stood as another feeling joined the unease and frustration.

Confliction.

Did he continue on this path alone or was it time he asked the Winchesters for help?

He had received strict instructions not to reveal too much but Castiel found himself doubting, not something he took any joy in.

Should Sam know his destiny?

X X X

Dean's eyes were stinging. The glare from the computer screen and two hours of scrolling through newspaper articles was taking its toll. Sam was sitting somewhere on the other side of the library leafing through books of death records from the last decade. Dean would take computer glare over dust mites any day of the year. It also meant he did not have to deal with Sam's sullen vow of silence that he had suddenly descended into.

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes for a moment. His head hurt and he suspected it was not from all the reading. It was the same headache he had had since he was about ten years old. Since his father had handed the task of protecting Sammy over to him. It was a task he had taken on unconditionally but sometimes he couldn't help but resent it – it wasn't exactly an easy one and it had become much harder in recent years. Some days more than others.

Today was one of those days.

He swivelled his chair around to look down the length of the small local library. Sam was sitting on a brown leather chair, so low that it gave his legs the appearance of being twice as long as they already were as he sat with them sprawled out in front of him.

Sam had a large bound volume of city records perched in his lap but he didn't appear to be reading it. He had one elbow resting on the chair arm, his cheek leaning on his fist as he held his cell phone with his other hand. At first Dean thought he was texting but on a second glance he realised his brother was simply staring at the screen.

With another heavy sigh, Dean rose from his seat and quietly crossed the gap between them with quick, stealthy steps. Sam didn't appear to notice his brother's arrival; he was clearly engrossed in his phone as Dean stood to one side and craned his neck to see what was so interesting.

It was a picture of Sam with Molly. From the way they were positioned in the photograph, it appeared that Molly had taken it at arms length. Dean couldn't help but smile sadly and any irritation he had felt towards Sam's behaviour today began to dissolve. He moved into a crouch beside him.

The movement made Sam twitch suddenly and he slammed his cell phone closed. He turned his head to look at Dean, an expression of surprise on his face. A brief second later and Sam had regained his composure, returning his expression to one of indifference.

'Hey,' he said, Dean noticed the slight croak in Sam's voice.

Sam straightened up in the chair, clearing his throat knowing that the longer they remained silent the more likely Dean was going to start the 'what the hell happened back there' conversation. Sam was not ready for that conversation.

'Um, I think I may have found our spirit,' he said pointing to the page before him, running his finger over the words as he read. 'Caroline Gunner aged twenty died in 2000 of asphyxiation from hanging.'

'She died in the sorority house?' Dean asked.

Sam nodded. 'Did you find anything in the newspaper records?'

Dean shrugged. 'They all started blending in to one another after a while. I'll run a search on that name.'

Sam watched as his brother stood and almost jogged back to the computer. He sighed wishing he could explain himself to Dean in a way that wouldn't end in him getting a verbal ass kicking. Not that he didn't deserve one.

It didn't take long for Dean to come rushing back with a printout. Sam was almost impressed with his brother's efficiency.

'Ok, Caroline Gunner hung her self from the first floor of the sorority building. She had a history of drug abuse and called her ex-boyfriend shortly before taking her life. Andrew Danforth said 'She called me to say it was the only way she could move on'' Dean read aloud from the paper.

Sam felt his blood run cold at the words. He knew his face had paled by the way Dean's left eyebrow twisted in puzzlement.

'What is it?'

'Does it say where she's buried?' Sam asked completely avoiding the question.

Dean glanced at the report.

'Yep, local cemetery.'

Sam stood up and forced a smile, adding a comedic tone to his voice. 'Grab your torch and rock salt!'


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N - I really hope this chapter doesn't get confusing. It flicks back and forth between what the boys are doing and what Castiel is doing. I just wasn't sure when I read it back. **

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****Chapter Six.**

During their hours of research at the library, the sun had begun its daily hiatus, sinking low behind the building, surrendering to the night before Sam and Dean emerged with fresh determination. It didn't take long with Dean's interpretation of driving before Sam saw the gates to the cemetery approaching.

Even after years of living the life they did, the sight of wrought iron gates protruding from the darkness and the knowledge of what was to come still sent a slight chill down his spine. So minor that he barely felt it, Sam still knew it was there every time. He figured the day he stopped feeling that minute rush of terror was the day he had truly lost his mind.

'Dude, where are you?' Dean said suddenly, breaking the silence that had filled the front of the car.

'Uh, nowhere,' Sam said. 'Just thinking I guess.'

Dean tutted sardonically. 'As if life wasn't dangerous enough already.'

Sam shook his head and fought back a smile. Whilst he was feeling the creeping of trepidation his brother was characteristically cracking jokes. He leaned forward a little so that he could see through the shadow created by the single dim lamppost on the side of the road.

'What the hell?' he muttered as he saw a figure flickering in and out of view.

'What?' Dean asked, clearly having not seen the same thing Sam had.

'Is that Castiel?' Sam asked, pointing to where he had seen the familiar outline of the angel just seconds before.

'I don't see anything,' Dean said, killing the engine and getting out quickly.

Sam followed suit though still preoccupied with the space beyond the gates. With another flicker, Castiel was back, his eyes meeting Sam's for a nano second before he disappeared again. Sam turned his head slightly, intending to ask Dean if he had seen. Upon finding that Dean's head was half submerged in the trunk of the car, rooting through the weapons arsenal, Sam decided not to bother.

X X X

If he were human, Castiel would probably be feeling dizzy right now. Transporting himself back and forth from the cemetery to here was annoying but necessary. He needed to check for the soul. If he was right, it would be floating somewhere around here, still deciding where to land.

The only thing more irritating now was that Sam Winchester had seen him and judging by the look of sheer confusion on his face, he would want to know what he was doing. The Winchesters were frustrating like that, always asking questions, refusing to be left out of the loop.

Admittedly, that had probably been their key to survival.

Castiel swept the area with another glance. No sign.

He would have to go back again.

X X X

'I'm telling you Dean, I saw him! I don't know what the hell he was doing. One minute he was there, the next he was gone,' Sam protested as the two brothers trudged through the graveyard looking for Caroline Gunner.

'That is kind of Cass' MO' Dean pointed out before abruptly taking a left.

Sam sighed and trotted after him. 'Something was off about it, Dean, he was doing it over and over like his ability was malfunctioning or something.'

'Dude, can we just focus please? We'll talk to him after we smoke this chick, alright?'

Sam rolled his eyes irritably as Dean stopped suddenly and crouched beside a relatively new gravestone. Brushing some leaves aside, Dean pointed at the name and looked at Sam knowingly.

'Catch,' Sam said, throwing a shovel to his brother before striking the ground with his own.

X X X

He had been right after all. The soul was somewhere around here. Beneath the whistling of the wind that played with his trench coat and turned his vessels hair into a tousled mess, Castiel could hear it. The ethereal sounds of a tortured entity gasping for resolution, a place to settle. He had to find it - and quickly. His search had already gone on for too many days longer than he had hoped and, with no real place to go, the soul could soon reach its final resting place.

Then it would be too late.

A high pitched screech in the distance prompted him to spin around. He came face to face with what appeared, on first glance, to be a white mist emerging from the emptiness of his location. Castiel had seen enough souls to know that it needed a minute to gain some recognisable features. Then he could confirm it was the one he was looking for.

Another unpleasant squeal echoed around him as the mist contorted and Castiel saw its face.

'Not what I'm looking for,' he muttered to himself as the face twisted in a picture of anger and hissed at him.

He took an unnecessary step backwards as the mist twirled in the air, its eyes glaring darkly at him.

'Help me!'

Castiel's line of sight shot to the left of the entity as another, brighter mist appeared by the hissing soul. If he bothered to feel emotion, Castiel would have felt triumph at that moment in time.

'Gotcha,' he said, as the familiar face looked back at him, eyes slightly drooped, sadness dripping from every feature.

He stepped closer, reaching out his hand, hoping he could get a strong hold on it and return it to its body. Before he could get close, he heard the tortured screech again as the hissing soul careened towards him, sending him flying backwards.

'It's the only way!' he heard before he literally fell back to Earth with a bump.

X X X

'Sam look out!' Dean shouted, a split second too late.

He watched with a familiar feeling of horror as his younger brother was thrown from the hole they had been standing in and connected harshly with the trunk of a massive oak nearby.

'Shit!' Dean cursed as the spirit of Caroline Gunner turned to face him, a psychotic smile spread across her face.

Before he could react, Castiel appeared behind the spirit and rammed his hand through its stomach, dispelling it.

'What the hell, Cass?' Dean shouted incredulously, climbing out of the grave.

'Woah,' Sam uttered from beside the tree, where he stood shakily on his feet. Two concussions in one day were too much, even for him. 'I didn't know you could do that. Where've you been?'

'I don't have time!' Castiel snapped sounding like a parent become impatient with a small child.

Sam walked back towards the grave Dean and he had dug as Castiel spun a 360, his eyes darting around erratically as though he were looking for something. Sam was certain he had never seen the angel behave like this before.

'What's going on?' Dean asked just as the spirit reappeared behind him.

'Dean!' Sam shouted out a fruitless warning as the ghost took hold of his brother by the throat.

All curiosity surrounding Castiel's odd behaviour was forgotten as he ran and slid himself into the grave. Picking up the shovel he had dropped moments before, Sam slammed it over and over into the wood of the casket they had unearthed until he saw a gaping hole in the wood.

'Sam!' Dean's strangled tone spurred him to work faster.

Tossing the shovel aside, he grabbed the duffel bag Dean had left by the open grave and retrieved the lighter fluid from it. He used one hand to pop the lid and tip it all over the remains whilst using his other hand to withdraw the cigarette lighter he carried in his jeans pocket.

'Sam, hurry,' Dean's voice was almost a whisper.

Flicking the lighter open, Sam pulled his thumb over the ignition, lighting it instantly and tossing it onto the open coffin. Within minutes the screech of the ghost as it burned out echoed through the graveyard and Dean fell to his knees clutching at his throat.

'Dude, you alright?' Sam asked, turning to face his brother.

Dean nodded to Sam, feeling far from alright. 'Just another day at the office,' he croaked, shrugging his shoulders. 'You?'

Sam didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on something else as he clambered out of the hole. Dean got to his feet and turned so that he could see what Sam was staring at.

Castiel stood before them, his arm around the waist of a dark haired, apparently unconscious woman. Her hair hung across her face where her head drooped loosely. She groaned suddenly and shivers appeared to wrack her body as she attempted to lift her head, her hair slipping slightly to reveal a glimpse of shocking blue eyes.

Realisation settling nauseatingly in his stomach, Dean turned to look at his brother. Sam's face had paled and for a moment he appeared to be frozen to the spot. Dean realised he was wrong however when Sam took a step forward, a tear spilling down his face as he moved, his hand outstretched towards the woman.

Sam's voice was a whisper as took another step.

'Molly?'

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**A/N - It had to be done, Sam couldn't be sad forever (love him too much) and people come back from the dead on Supernatural all the time. More will be explained in the next chapter which I will post in a couple of days. I'm kinda tired as I have tonsilitis so energy levels a bit lacking**.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N - Ok, so this is the chapter where I click 'publish' and then close my eyes in trepidation. I completely twisted some mythology to try and explain where Molly has been and how Castiel gets her back.**

**Really hope it doesn't bite me in the ass. I think it works. **

**(prises one eye open slightly to check that all is well)**

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****Chapter Seven.**

Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, Dean rolled his beer bottle between his hands, as he watched Sam pacing up and down the motel room shooting questions at a typically indifferent Castiel. He couldn't quite work out if Sam was furious, ecstatic or completely nonplussed. Judging by the way he was stomping around the room, throwing his arms around as he attempted to interrogate Castiel, it was probably all three.

After appearing in the cemetery, Castiel had offered no explanation as to what had happened. He spoke only to instruct them to head back to the motel before immediately disappearing again. Nothing new there Dean figured, looking down at the brown bottle in his hands, contemplating whether or not to start peeling the label off.

'What the hell Cass?' Sam was shouting. 'Where was she? Did you know this whole time? I've spent the best part of the last fortnight feeling like crap whilst you've been off resurrecting her!'

'I'm going to need another beer,' Dean muttered to deaf ears, standing up and moving over to the refrigerator. He took the last bottle from the cool box inside and sat down again.

Castiel appeared to be simply standing and waiting for Sam to stop his verbal tirade. Molly lay sleeping on Sam's bed. It appeared she had not yet fully regained consciousness despite her efforts in the cemetery. Dean had to admit he was curious but having been resurrected himself more times than he could count, he wasn't as curious as Sam clearly was. Crazy how something so miraculous now seemed part of his daily routine almost.

'Dude, give it a rest,' Dean said at last, finally growing tired of his brother's tantrum-esque ranting. 'Calm down and give him chance to explain.'

Sam ran a hand through his thick brown hair. Dean resisted commenting on whether he intended to go for a haircut anytime this side of the apocalypse but figured it really wasn't the right time.

'Fine,' Sam snapped, dragging a chair out from under the table and abruptly sitting down in it.

He folded his arms like a petulant child and stared at Castiel. The angel sat down on the end of the bed and stared back.

Dean looked from the angel to his brother.

It was going to be a long night.

X X X

The pain in her head was excruciating, like nothing she had ever felt before. Or had she? Everything was such a blur, she barely knew who or what she was. It had felt as though she had been floating around in nothingness for the longest time when she finally felt ground beneath her feet and sensed a body pressed beside hers. In the short moment where she had managed to open her eyes, images had flashed across them, familiar yet distant like she was running a fever and hallucinating.

Then she had heard the voice whispering her name. It brought peace in the midst of the confusion; familiar yet unidentifiable. She had tried hard to look towards the voice but had been unable to keep her eyes open. The pain in her head and the shivers got worse as she tried to move and she found herself slipping away again.

She wasn't sure whether or not she was dreaming but when she lost consciousness all she could see were images of a man who struck her with so much terror that she tried desperately to look away. Then pain followed a burning feeling in her gut.

Trying hard to make sense of the emotions, images and feelings that flashed through her she began to think about opening her eyes again. She was sure she could hear that familiar voice somewhere in the distance. It sounded angry but she was desperate to reach it as though finding that voice would answer everything.

X X X

'Limbo,' Castiel said at last.

Sam, having momentarily given up on his stare-down, snapped his head up to look at the angel.

'What?' he exclaimed.

'Limbo, that's where I found her,' Castiel said, looking briefly at Molly's sleeping form on the bed.

'Limbo really exists?' Dean interjected.

Sam glared at him as though he were stupid although he himself had been surprised when he heard the word. Just when he thought he knew everything about the world that Dean and he lived in something else came along.

Dean held his palms up in mock-defence. Sam rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Castiel.

'Limbo - as in between Earth and Heaven?' Sam asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

Castiel nodded briefly and said nothing. Sam had the uneasy feeling that he was holding back on him.

'How did you know to look for her there?' Sam asked, fighting the urge to become frustrated with the angel.

Castiel stood and walked towards the window, looking out of it briefly before turning back to face Sam directly.

'Most souls end up in limbo. It's rare for them to stay there more than a day or two before they reach their intended destination be it heaven or hell. Then you get the kind that fight their way back to Earth – '

'Like Molly,' Sam interjected.

Castiel shook his head. 'No, she ended up here mostly be accident. The souls that fight their way back usually end up as angry spirits.'

'Keeping us in business,' Dean muttered to himself. 'Great, yet another reason for them to roam the earth – as if vengeance and unfinished business weren't enough.'

Sam wondered fleetingly whether Dean was drunk already but he was far more interested in what Castiel had to say. Interrogating the angel was keeping his mind off Molly and the knowledge that she was little more than a few feet from him.

'So how did Molly get back?' Sam asked, his eyes reluctantly flickering in her direction.

'I was in limbo looking for her and she got caught up in the soul of the spirit you were trying to kill.' Castiel explained, pacing the room slightly.

'How'd it end up there?' Dean asked his brow furrowed in confusion.

'Like I said before, the angry spirits are the souls that fight their way back to Earth. Every time you shoot one with your rock salt rounds or strike it with iron, the soul is sent back to limbo - if that is where it came from originally. Like you said, Dean, there are many reasons angry spirits are created.'

'Huh,' Dean huffed. 'Explains a lot.'

'And when the spirit came back, Molly somehow tagged along?' Sam asked, starting to understand the new lore he found himself hearing.

Castiel nodded.

'Lucky break,' Dean said, sounding impressed. 'How did you get her back in her body?'

'I harnessed the soul long enough to take it to the warehouse.'

Sam felt the bile rise in his throat. Molly's body had lay in the warehouse for over a week. He had assumed that Castiel had dealt with it. Now he found himself questioning why he had just walked away without so much as looking back, as though she had meant nothing to him.

He heard Dean say his name as he rose silently from his seat and crossed the room but he was unable to respond. Brushing a lock of hair away from her face as he sat down gently on the edge of the bed, he felt realisation finally start to sink in. Molly was back and all the questions he'd had were gone from his mind. He didn't care how she was back, why she was back or what sinister future was no doubt attached to this.

All he wanted now was for her to wake up.

'Molly,' he whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder.

He ignored Dean's awkward throat clearing, not caring how much of a chick his older brother would think he was. Sam just needed to be able to look in her eyes again and hold her close to him.

'Molly,' Sam said again, louder this time, and shook her shoulder softly.

X X X

The flickering of the images that she now knew to be memories had sped up. She felt as though she were on a merry go round at full speed, each visual picture blurring into the next. The only difference was that there was no jolly music playing on repeat.

But there was the voice again, calling her name. It seemed so distant to start with and difficult to distinguish like the owner of the voice was standing at the opposite end of a very long tunnel, calling to her.

She turned her head, searching for the sound, trying to reach it. As it grew louder she began to make out all the details that made it familiar. The tender tone, the underlying worry, the slight etching of hope.

Sam.

Her eyes flew open.

* * *

**A/N - there you have it, there is another chapter to come before I have to write some more, hope you liked this one and that I got away with the twisted mythology. Like I've said before I'm just borrowing the characters and doing my own thing. Thanks for still sticking with this story. **


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N - Yay, you made it to chapter 8. I must not have ruined it all with the created/altered mythology (I always get a bit scared about changing or inventing things but then the writer dudes over at Supernatural HQ always do it and get away with it!) I was just as paranoid when I came up with the idea of the trickster/siren hybrid but I seemed to get away with that too.**

**Thanks again for keeping up with me. Y'all rock (am not Texan, not even American, not sure why I used Y'all, just seemed appropriate)**

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**Chapter Eight.**

The first thing she saw was Sam's eyes staring at her. She didn't know how long it had been since she had left him but he looked as though he had aged. Either that or he hadn't slept much since. Dark semi-circles underlined his eyes and he looked sad. Even his reaction to her return to consciousness seemed weary. His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened slightly as though he were stunned.

Perhaps he hadn't been expecting her to wake up.

She wondered herself how she had survived the stab wound. The pain alone had told her she had done the job she intended. The last few moments before she lost consciousness were a little sketchy but she was almost certain she had died.

With a greater effort than she thought she'd need, she pushed herself into a sitting position, batting Sam's hands away when he tried to stop her, or help her – she wasn't sure which. She still felt pretty bewildered and the dizziness was unreal.

She glanced around the room, noticing Dean sitting at a table, beer bottle in his hand. He lifted it slightly and tipped it towards her in a gesture of greeting so casual, she might have laughed were she not so exhausted.

'Hey,' Sam's voice pulled her attention back to him.

'Hey yourself,' she felt a weak smile cross her face.

Sam's previously tired, fearful face broke into the huge grin she had only seen him use once or twice in the short time she had known him. Before she had a chance to react, he pulled her into him and wrapped his strong arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

Dean squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, wondering if he should find some excuse to exit the room. He wasn't quite ready to witness his younger brother's lovesick reunion. Maybe he could go on a beer run or get gas for the Impala.

To his surprise, Molly pushed Sam away just seconds after he embraced her. Dean sat up straight, suddenly more interested. He wondered if she had been changed by her ordeal. His own resurrection, albeit by a different method, had been almost painful but he had returned as the same person he had been previously - aside from the memories of hell of course.

'Sorry,' Sam was saying. 'Did I hurt you?'

Dean watched, pretty certain that wasn't the reason for her rebuttal of his affections. Molly shook her head.

'No, I'm fine,' she said, her voice hoarse. 'Considering.'

Sam didn't seem able to take his eyes off her, Dean noticed. It was almost as though he expected her to disappear again. He realised, slightly shameful, that Sam's feelings for Molly had been genuine all along. When she died, the connection brought by her Siren abilities had been severed so she couldn't control him, though now Dean was sure she had never tried. He probably should have given her the benefit of the doubt.

_Yeah right_, he thought, _because I've been trained my whole life to do_ that.

'Do you need anything?' Sam was asking. 'Water?'

Before Molly had even finished nodding, Sam was up and crossing the room to grab a bottle from the refrigerator. Dean glanced at him as he passed and saw the change in his younger brother's face. He looked hopeful again, for the first time in a while.

'So, Molly,' Dean said loudly, finally tired of the weird atmosphere in the room particularly the way Castiel was standing deathly silent as though waiting for something. 'How are you feeling?'

Molly cracked a smile, but it seemed to lack any humour.

'You make it sound like I just woke up with a hangover,' she said.

Dean returned the smile as Sam returned to her bedside, uncapping the bottle. Molly practically snatched the bottle from him, suddenly realising how incredibly thirsty she was. She gulped away at the contents and managed to down the bottle within a few seconds. Holding the bottle away from her face and looking at what she had done, she exhaled a sharp laugh.

'Hey, been there, sweetheart,' Dean quipped from across the room.

'You want some more?' Sam asked, reaching to take the bottle from her.

She was one step ahead of him. Raising her hand to show him the already refilled bottle, she shrugged before taking another long drink.

'Huh, forgot you could do that,' Sam said.

'Shame it's not beer,' Dean said, tossing his empty bottle slam-dunk style into the trash can by the sink.

Molly stopped drinking and smiled at the older Winchester. Dean shot a puzzled frown at her. She tipped her half drunken water bottle to gesture towards the refrigerator, suppressing a smile at the way Dean's face lit up in expectation. He got out of his seat and pulled the door open. Every shelf was completely stocked with bottles of the beer Dean had been drinking. He smiled broadly.

'You have got to be freaking kidding me!' he said.

'You're welcome,' Molly said.

She looked at Sam again and noticed something in his expression. He seemed wary. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen her abilities before. Still too tired to want to get into any kind of deep discussion, she tried to think of something that might distract him from whatever was running through his mind. Out of nowhere her stomach grumbled angrily.

'Got anything to eat around here?' she asked, glad of the subject change.

Sam stood up, tossing the bottle cap onto the night stand.

'I'll go get something,' he said with a sigh. 'Any requests?'

Molly remained silent. Apparently, her sudden need for food had not distracted him from whatever it was he was dwelling on. She shook her head in answer to his question, wondering why she suddenly felt so guilty. To her surprise he leaned down and swept an abrupt kiss against her cheek, stroking his fingers against her other cheek as he did so, before turning his back on her and leaving the room, taking the Impala keys on his way.

'Sam! Pie!' Dean shouted to the already closed door.

Castiel tutted, making a sound for the first time. Molly looked at the angel who actually appeared to be rolling his eyes.

'What?' Dean said defensively. 'He always forgets the pie.'

Molly swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her first attempt to stand. She tested the weight on her feet, noticing how weak her legs felt. Straightening up, once she had her balance, she looked over at Dean again.

'I _was_ dead, right?'

'Yes,' Castiel cut in before Dean could respond.

'How long for?' Molly asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

'Ten days,' the angel replied, simply.

Molly wondered if he had anything else to say or if he was doing his usual straight forward, cut to the chase thing that he was notorious for. Instead he tilted his head as though he were listening to something before his eyes widened slightly.

'I have to go,'

With a fluttering sound, Castiel was gone. It didn't matter that she had seen him do that several times before, it was still weird.

'Seeya,' she said, sarcastically.

She took a step forward, intending to move to the table to sit with Dean but her legs gave way and she found herself falling flat on the floor. Within seconds she felt Deans arm around her, helping her into a sitting position.

'You alright?' he asked, genuinely sounding concerned.

'Yeah, thanks, guess I still need to get my strength back,' she replied.

He took her hands in his and helped her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he supported her as she walked to the table. She took the seat he pulled out for her and let out a weary sigh as she took the weight off her feet.

'So,' Dean said, returning to his own chair. 'You didn't want to conjure up a Big Mac yourself?'

Molly shrugged guiltily. 'I thought it was best Sam went out for a while. Self-preservation I guess.'

Dean nodded. 'Resurrection – it's weird, huh?'

'Yeah,' Molly said. 'And seeing Sam…'

She trailed off not wanting to finish her sentence. Dean had hardly been on friendly terms with her in the past, she was sure the last thing he wanted to hear was how she had felt when she saw Sam again.

'What?' Dean prompted, much to her amazement.

'Seeing Sam made me feel guilty,' Molly admitted. 'He's been in pain.'

Dean took a swig of his beer and shrugged. 'Yeah, not that he would admit it. He's been pretty quiet.'

'I'm sorry,' Molly said.

Dean shrugged again 'You made a choice to protect him, believe me I can relate.'

They fell silent for a moment, each of them unsure what to say. Molly was still trying to work out the answers to the multitude of questions she was going to have as well as deciding what to do next.

Dean rolled the beer bottle between his hands as they sat. He looked uncomfortable as though he wanted to say something but she figured he wasn't one for sharing much. Finally he cleared his throat and looked at her.

'You saved him from being forced to say yes to Lucifer,' he said.

For an instance he looked strangely vulnerable, something she had never seen in Dean before. It was as though she could see how he imagined what it would be like if Sam was possessed by the devil – it frightened him. Dean paused and cleared his throat again, looking up to meet her eyes.

'Thank You.'

X X X

When Sam returned, his arms laden with paper bags of takeout food – pie included – he found that Molly was no longer in bed. Nor was she in the room. For a brief, maddening second he wondered if he had imagined it all. Then again, if his brother was brought back to him, why shouldn't Molly be brought back too?

Sam stopped in his tracks, halfway to the kitchen table, as something occurred to him. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom, informing him of Molly's whereabouts. Dean was sprawled on the couch, snoring lightly, the TV was on but the sound was off. He stared at his older brother.

Dean was brought back for a reason.

'Why was Molly brought back?' Sam said aloud, to no one in particular.

He headed to the table, placing the bags of food down on it. Once again he felt the all too familiar sense of trepidation that this was not about to end simply with the fact that Molly was back.

The door to the bathroom opened and Molly stepped out, wrapped in a white motel bathrobe, drying her hair with a towel. She stopped and looked at him, clearly not having expected to see Sam standing there.

'I brought food,' Sam said at last, gesturing towards the paper bags that were starting to develop dark patches where the grease was soaking through. Dean would be proud of the cholesterol inducing levels.

Molly smiled and walked over to the table, tossing the towel onto the bed as she went. She opened the bag nearest to her and inhaled deeply.

'It smells amazing!' she said, her face visibly lighting up as she removed a burger from the bag.

All thoughts of the sinister motives behind her resurrection forgotten, Sam walked around from his side of the table and took her face in his hands, tilting her head up to look at him. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks and stared at her, trying to take in everything about her.

'God, I missed you so much,' he whispered.

He leaned towards her, preparing to kiss her. Then he stopped. She hadn't said a word, was avoiding meeting his eyes. He contemplated whether he should continue. All he had dreamt about was seeing her again so he could do this, but he had expected it to be mutual. He was mere centimetres from her face; all he had to do was lean forward and close the gap.

'Dude, what took you so long?' Deans booming voice startled him and he immediately dropped his hands and stepped back, looking in his brother's direction.

Dean yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head until his shoulders made a clicking sound, the tell tale sign of old injuries. He winced visibly before marching over and snatching the burger from Molly's hand.

'Dude!' Molly exclaimed, turning away from Sam and hitting Dean playfully on the shoulder.

'Wha-?' Dean shot back, his mouth full of the giant bite of beef he had taken.

Sam stood numbly watching the scene unfold in front of him. He should have known things would not return to normal the minute she opened her eyes, but he had been hoping for something more than her avoiding him. Not to mention seeing her actually getting along with Dean was just plain weird.

'Why the long face Sammy?' Dean said, leaning against the edge of the counter top by the kitchen sink.

'Uh, nothing,' Sam lied and moved to dig into the paper bag for something to eat although his appetite had gone.

'Dude, we should be celebrating. You got your girl back!' Dean said, taking another huge mouthful.

Sam said nothing and just stared irritably at his brother. Dean glared back for a moment before shaking his head in defeat and returning to couch, flicking the volume back on the TV.

'He's right, you know,' Molly said quietly, snapping Sam out of his introversion. 'I'm back from the dead, isn't that worth celebrating?'

Thinking he may have misinterpreted her earlier reluctance, Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He glanced over her shoulder to check that Dean couldn't see. The last thing he needed was his brother mocking him. Dean was too busy munching on his burger and watching the baseball game on the TV.

'It definitely is,' Sam grinned at his own cheesiness before leaning towards her.

Molly placed two fingers on his mouth, stopping him mid-way.

'No, Sam,' she said so quietly he was barely sure he had heard her.

'Why not?' Sam asked wishing he knew why the minute something remotely good happened in his life, it disappeared again.

Before Molly had a chance to answer his question, the door to the motel room burst open and slammed against the wall. Dean leapt to a standing position, pulling his gun out in the same movement and pointed it towards the doorway. Almost simultaneously, Sam turned around, withdrawing his own weapon with one hand and pushing Molly behind him with the other.

Castiel stood in the doorway, blood pouring from several wounds on his face. He looked at Sam before collapsing to the floor.

'Cass?' Dean shouted, clearly astonished. It took a hell of a lot to hurt the angel, never mind render him partially unconscious.

Sam being the nearest, ran to the angel and rolled him over. Blood was seeping from his mouth and his hair was matted from another wound.

'Cass, what happened?' Sam asked, putting his hand behind Castiel's head to lift it.

The angel opened his eyes briefly, clearly an effort for him.

'He's back,' he whispered, blood bubbling in his mouth.

'Who?' Molly asked from right beside Sam's shoulder.

Castiel fixed his eyes on her.

'Lucifer.'

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**A/N - muahahahaaaa! hmm, think lack of sleep and consumption of antibiotics for tonsilitis may have sent me slightly mad! I just got a few ideas for some action sequences to enter into future chapters. **


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N - this chapter was written whilst very tired so could be crap lol. Am feeling lot better now thanks to those who reviewed the last couple of chapters and the rest of you for still reading. I'm hoping I can keep updating and writing chapters a bit more regularly depending on how much other work I have to do. I'm thinking up a big battle for the next chapter. Need some more action now the reunion has happened, also trying to decide whether to make some links to season 5 or not - may be the only way I can do what I planned for this story orignally. **

**Enjoy xx**

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**Chapter Nine.**

Sam swallowed back a gulp and tightened his grip on the shotgun he held, poised and ready for action. He had been in situations like this with Dean more times than they could ever care to count but this time was different. He was terrified, hopefully not visibly so, but terrified all the same.

His hands were moist with perspiration where he was holding the gun so much tighter than necessary. He knew how to handle the weapon but for some insane reason he couldn't help but tighten and re-tighten his grip. Almost as though he had developed a sudden OCD for it; Dean would argue he'd had OCD for a long time, but that was Dean.

Sam stole an opportunity to glance quickly at his older brother who stood by his side, a step or two ahead of him. The usual battle position - taking the lead, protecting Sammy at the same time. Sometimes it annoyed Sam; he was a grown man in his late twenties now after all. At times like this however, it was reassuring to know someone had your back.

Even so, he was still shit scared.

In the brief seconds before Castiel had fully lost consciousness, the angel had managed to tell them where he had found Lucifer. There had been no time for explanations as to how Lucifer had returned or where Molly had even managed to send him shortly before she died.

Sam shuddered at the memory and judging by the slight confused frown shot his way from Dean that _had_ been visible. He said nothing, the images of Molly's final moments still replaying in his head. She was back at the motel, taking care of Cass. Sam hoped the damage to the angel would repair itself pretty quickly but if he was honest, he was more concerned with Molly's safety.

'Dude, will you focus?' Dean snapped suddenly, his voiced hushed to just above a whisper. 'She's safer where she is than here.'

Sam stared at his brother incredulously. How the hell did he do that?

As if once again reading his mind, Dean said. 'Brotherly intuition.'

'Stop doing that Dean, it's creepy.'

Dean shot his creepiest smile at Sam before resuming the serious pre-battle concentration look he usually wore.

'Let's do this brother,' he mumbled, stepping forward and pulling the door to the warehouse open.

Sam could feel his heart pounding in his throat. He'd never known fear like it. Then again, with the promise of Lucifer taking over his body, he had every right to be. Trying to ignore the office at the back where Molly had taken her life not so long ago, he followed Dean, mirroring each of his brother steps in tactical advancement into the building.

Dean rapidly swept his gun to the right and then straight ahead again before Sam swept his own to the left and back again. They did this several times, their way of checking out the building whilst covering one another's backs at the same time.

After several minutes of this tactic, Sam's heart had slowed down to a more bearable level. It was looking more and more like the place was empty. He shifted slightly, lowering his gun. Dean released one of his hands from where he was gripping his own shotgun and thwacked Sam on the arm nearest to him.

'What was that for?' Sam hissed, Dean hadn't exactly been gentle.

'Keep your gun ready, we still need to check the office out.' Dean hissed back. 'Amateur move, Sam!'

'Yeah, I know,' Sam replied, readjusting his hold on the weapon and pointing it towards to office.

Dean took several stealthy steps forward in quick succession. They had taken their time with the main part of the building but he clearly wanted to get the job done. Sam followed him, his own steps slightly slower. He told himself it was because he was taller, made more noise when he moved but deep down he knew he did not want to go into that room again.

Within less than a minute, Dean was by the door. Sam moved quickly to catch up with him so that he could cover his brother when he opened the door. Dean looked at him and nodded. Sam nodded back, signalling that he was ready. As ready as he would ever be anyway.

Dean mouthed silently 'On three.'

Sam suddenly thought back to the time Dean had been taken ill with ghost sickness and they had checked out a locker in a paper factory. Sam had opened the door only for a harmless tabby cat to jump out on them. To say Dean had screamed like a girl was an understatement. Sam had never heard anything like it and he had met a lot of terrified people.

Dean started to count silently.

_Please don't let me scream like a girl, _Sam thought. Dean would love the opportunity to pay him back for all the teasing Sam had done once Dean recovered.

'…Three,' mouthed Dean and yanked the door open at lighting speed.

Nothing.

Nothing jumped out. Nothing stood there waiting. Nothing came out of Sam's mouth – much to his relief.

'Huh,' Dean exhaled, lowering his weapon. 'Guess we missed 'em,'

'Yeah,' Sam lowered his own gun and turned to leave.

A blast of pain reverberated through his face as he heard Dean shout his name only it sounded distant and distorted. He was vaguely aware of the metallic feel of fresh blood rising in his mouth as the ground came up to meet him.

X X X

How exactly do you take care of an angel?

Molly had no idea and her attempts at mopping his brow with a damp cloth seemed laughably futile. He had been out cold since Sam and Dean left. They had been in a hurry but had still taken the time to move their celestial friend onto one of the beds. She had watched in admiration at how they treated him almost like another brother. Their relationship had always seemed a little strange to her, given that Cass wasn't human but she could have sworn she saw the concern associated with brotherly love etched on the faces of both Winchesters.

She rinsed the bloody rag into a bowl before soaking it again with water from another. It worried her how pale Castiel looked and Sam and Dean had not stayed long enough to tell her what she should do – assuming they knew what to do. Applying the rag gently to his face, she wiped the rest of the blood away from one of the many wounds on his face. Maybe it was just his human vessel that got damaged, not the angel himself.

'Himself?' she muttered aloud. 'Or is it itself?'

Either way Lucifer had really done a number on him. Molly shivered knowing from her all too recent personal experience how creepy Lucifer was. She wondered where she had sent him to; she couldn't remember picturing anything when she told him to 'go to hell.' There had been no pun intended, she had been so angry at the way he was trying to manipulate Sam as she lay dying in his arms, it had been the first thing that came to mind.

She shivered again at the memory of her death. It had been painful and bloody – entirely her own fault – but the one good thing had been knowing Sam was there. As hard as it was to now see how much pain she had caused him with her actions having him close to her, loving her, softened the blow somehow.

But what now? While she didn't begrudge Castiel for returning her to the land of the living she was confused. She was a danger to anyone she was able to control and had little control over the powers inherited from her father. Last she checked the ability to produce vast amounts of alcohol and cheeseburgers benefitted only one member of the human race – Dean Winchester.

Then again, he was off trying to save mankind so at least he was well fuelled. On second thoughts she had only provided the beer, not the beef. That was a great power sending off the saviour of mankind in a state of slight inebriation. Although…he did seem to have a high threshold, he was always sipping something…

Molly shook her head as she found her thoughts running off at a tangent. Procrastinating about Sam, her death and Dean's drinking habits were not helping with the problem at hand.

As if sensing that she was thinking about him, Castiel's eyes shot open and he sat up suddenly. Molly flinched a little in surprise. He appeared to be taking a moment, staring past her, as if reminding himself what had happened.

'Are you alright?' she said quietly, afraid she would startle him.

Castiel's large green eyes flickered to meet her but his expression, as usual, did not change.

'I am fine,' he said plainly. 'Sam needs my help.'

Molly dropped the rag into the bowl with an audible 'plop' that echoed in the now empty room. She felt the colour draining from her face.

'What?' she exclaimed. 'Where is he? What's wrong?'

'He's in danger,' Cass said, slowly getting up from the bed.

He appeared to be healing faster now that he was awake but he hadn't yet attempted to beam out or whatever it was. Maybe his angel batteries were not completely recharged, Molly thought.

'Let me come with you,' she said, firmly realising it was pointless, as if she would have any authority over an angel.

'We have to hurry,' Cass said, standing up gingerly as if testing his feet.

Molly took a split second to overcome the surprise before pulling on her jeans underneath her robe and grabbing her shoes from the floor. They were pretty beaten up, as were the rest of the limited number of clothes she had right now – they were the clothes she had died in after all.

Not wanting to wear her blood stained shirt she jogged over to Sam's bag and pulled out one of his t-shirts. Quickly pulling off her robe to try and limit what Cass might see of her, not that he was looking, she threw Sam's t-shirt over her head. It was clean but she could still sense the scent she associated with him and it made her heart pound with fear and love.

Focus on the fear, girl, she told herself.

'Ready,' she announced, turning to face Cass.

His face still look paler than usual but the wounds seemed to be fading. She was a little dubious about how effective his transportation was going to be, especially with a passenger in tow. She just hoped he was strong enough.

'Are you going to be ok?' she asked, walking towards him and placing a hand on his arm.

He looked down at her hand with an expression of puzzlement.

'I'm still weak, but we should be fine,' he said, calm as ever.

'What if we're not?' Molly asked, instantly regretting it.

'I will be fine, you however could be disintegrated into an infinite number of pieces,' Castiel said, blunt as ever.

Molly smiled widely. 'Great, let's do this.'

The second she saw Castiels fingers aiming for her head, she squeezed her eyes closed.

_I hope this works, _she thought.

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**A/N - this chapter didn't quite go how I intended it to, but I wanted a bit more Molly voice because there never has been a great amount. Its usually Sam's POV with some Dean thrown in to add perspective. With any luck I will have chapter ten written tonight and posted within the next couple of days. thanks for your support by reading on. **


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N - Ok, sorry this chapter is a tad long. I just wanted lots of fighting. Was reading through my original fic and remembering the diner fight and figured this story needed more action. It's not much of a chapter for answering questions but hopefully the next one will be. **

**Also wanted to get Molly in as more of a part of the gang which has just given me the idea for some comedy moments in later chapters...**

**Hmm anyway, enjoy. **

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**Chapter Ten.**

_Shit._

Molly could hear the fight before Cas even opened the door to the warehouse. Her relief at not being 'disintegrated into an infinite number of pieces' had been short lived. In the midst of a brief self pat down she had heard the grunts and sounds of fists connecting with bones. Her stomach flipped over and her eyes met with Castiel's. He looked back, a grim expression on his face.

Who was she kidding? He always looked grim.

Now the door was wide open, Castiel striding in front of her, apparently having fully regained his strength. The warehouse had a large group of demons inside; at a rough estimate she counted about ten of them. There were at least five writhing on the floor, steam rising from their limbs from the effects of holy water if she remembered rightly. The rest appeared to have circled Dean and were taking it in turns to attack him, usually two at a time.

She had no idea how but Dean appeared to be keeping the demons at a distance. In what looked like a flurried combination of skilfully delivered blocks, punches and kicks he was keeping them at bay. He was getting backed into a corner though and Molly knew it wouldn't be long before the demons started winning.

Where the hell was Sam?

Castiel moved deftly forward, hauling two demons back by the collars of their jackets and flinging them to other side of the room. Molly stepped back and pressed herself against the wall trying to become hidden from view suddenly realising, she had no knowledge of hand to hand combat, nor could she use her existing powers to cause physical damage to demons. So much for being a weapon.

'Weapon, I need a weapon,' she muttered to herself and began scanning the building from where she was standing for something she could use.

'Molly! Look out!' Dean's voice boomed from across the warehouse.

How he had managed to see her whilst fighting his own battle she didn't know. That didn't solve the problem at hand though. A demon was stalking his way towards her, a gleeful smile on the face of his host. Businessman by the looks of it. Molly began to panic a little; she had yet to find a weapon.

Then it dawned on her.

'Molly, you idiot!' she snapped to herself, closing her eyes and visualising as fast as she could.

When she opened her eyes again, the demons face was inches from her own, vile breath washing over her face.

'I know someone who wants to see you,' he breathed.

'Yeah, well I know someone who doesn't give a shit,' Molly replied with the sweetest smile she could muster.

She quickly cocked the shotgun that had appeared in her hand and blasted a salt round into the demons chest. He flew back with a squeal of surprise, giving her chance to run. The weapon wasn't going to make too much damage on any of the demons but it might at least slow them down.

Running towards the main fight, Molly saw that Castiel was fully involved in a fist fight with a rather large, rather tall demon that appeared to have had the sense to inhabit a body builder rather than a weedy businessman. She still couldn't see Sam.

'Dean, where's Sam?' she shouted, continuing to run towards them.

'Kinda busy here, Molly,' Dean shot back, throwing another punch at the demon attacking him.

'No need to get smart,' she muttered to herself, her heart pounding with fear and exertion.

Molly suddenly felt herself propelled across the room, barrelling into Dean and losing her grip on the weapon she had created in the process. Dean seemed completely unaffected and was back on his feet in no time.

'Ouch,' Molly winced at the ache in her back as she pushed herself into a sitting position.

Feeling something on her hand she looked down and found Sam. He lay on the floor beside her, his head almost in her lap. A large gash down the side of his face oozed with blood and had dripped onto the floor, where Molly had landed. Dean had apparently been fighting the demons whilst keeping Sam behind him.

'Sam,' Molly said, lifting his head. 'Sam, come on, wake up.'

She tried to raise him by the shoulders but he was a dead weight. Molly didn't know how long it had been between the Winchesters being attacked and Castiel waking up, she just hoped it wasn't long. She put her hands on either side of Sam's face, her fingers becoming lost in his long hair and held his head firmly.

'Sam, wake up right now!' she bellowed as loud as she could.

Sam's eyes shot open and he immediately groaned in pain, confusion washing over his face until his gaze fell on her.

'What happened?' he mumbled, strength not yet upon him.

'It's still happening,' Molly said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

'Here,' Sam said, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a knife. 'Use this; I'll be alright in a minute.'

Molly stared at him incredulously. He was clearly in a vast amount of pain but still thinking of battle plans. Sam swiped at the blood on his face, wincing when he caught the wound.

'Go!' he yelled, pushing her towards Dean and all the action.

Jumping to her feet, Molly poised herself into a crouch hoping it looked like a threatening battle position. Knowing her luck, it probably didn't.

'Hey there, sweetheart,' a voice from her left grabbed her attention.

The business demon was back. Molly found herself starting to feel irritated and she tightened her grip on the knife, moving her hand behind her back quickly hoping she could get the element of surprise.

'Did you not get the message earlier?' Molly quipped, taking a step toward the demon.

The demon shrugged and moved closer towards her, his hand clasping around her throat and lifting her a foot from the ground. His evil smile widened and his eyes turned to black. Molly summoned all her strength, despite being unable to breathe and swung her arm from behind her back, embedding the knife in the demons neck with an audible squelch.

She fell to the floor immediately as the demon began to shake and light flashed from its wound and eyes before falling to the floor.

'I think he got the message,' she heard Sam say from behind her.

Sam was trying hard to fight the urge to smile. Molly looked so surprised at herself and as dangerous as it was, he was glad she was here.

'Are you alright?' he asked, quickly crouching down and pulling the weapon from the demon's neck.

'I got to get me one of those,' She said as he stood up, trying to ignore the swimming feeling in his head.

Surveying the room, he assessed that Castiel had managed to dispense of three of the demons that had attacked them, Molly had ganked this one and Dean was knelt on the chest of another mumbling the exorcism rite. There were a couple however getting up from the floor, judging by the steam, Dean had gotten them with holy water before the real fighting started.

'Stay here,' he instructed Molly as Dean jumped off the demon he had finished exorcising and marched towards one of those returning for a second round.

'But you're hurt,' Molly protested, her hand suddenly on his arm.

'It's nothing,' Sam said, gently, trying to look as sincere as possible. 'I'll be fine I promise.'

'A little help over here!' the simultaneous irritated voices of Dean and Castiel bellowed over to him.

Sam looked up to see his brother and the angel both in the midst of fighting another demon each. He immediately ran towards Dean, figuring Cass could hold his own for a few more minutes, just as Dean got the demon around the throat from behind. Sam plunged the knife hard into the demons gut, holding the weapon still whilst the creature flashed out of its host.

'About time,' Dean snapped, throwing the motionless body of the demon to the ground. 'Glad you could tear yourself away from your girlfriend, there.'

Sam shot a sarcastic scowl back before the two of them ran to Cass who had somehow managed to lose the upper hand in his battle with the remaining demon. Dean threw a punch to its jaw as Cass, who had evidently gotten his trench coat tangled up in the demons arms, pulled free. The demon came charging at the three of them. Dean raised his fists for another punch as Sam lifted his arm ready to plunge the knife in.

Before either of them got the chance, Castiel calmly stepped forward and planted his hand so that it covered the demons face as it reached them. Within seconds and a flash of light, the demon was gone.

'Nicely done Cass,' Dean said between harsh gasps, attempting to get his breath back.

'It does not help us any,' Castiel said.

'Yeah, where is Lucifer? It's all demons and no devil out here,' Dean said his hands on his knees as he spoke.

He looked up when there was no response. Castiel looked to be deep in thought.

Sam shrugged at his brother. They were good questions; he just dreaded to think of the answers behind them. He wasn't sure whether it was worse knowing where Lucifer was or being in the dark. He figured the devil still wanted the same thing he always wanted – him as his meat suit.

A scream suddenly returned his attention back to Molly. He and Dean turned around at the same time. As it turned out they hadn't just ganked the last demon, there was one left and it had an arm around Molly's throat from behind.

'Molly!' Sam shouted instinctively running forward.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' the demon sneered. 'All it takes is one little twitch and her pretty little neck gets snapped in two.'

Sam immediately froze. He was sure Cass might be able to get her back from the dead again but didn't really want to risk it. There must be some way of getting her away from the demon.

'Let me go you freak!' Molly was saying whilst wriggling beneath his grip.

The demon laughed wickedly. 'No can do, sweetheart. The master wants, the master gets. See, Lucifer's not too impressed with you and your little tricks. Sent us looking for you.'

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was one of those demons – had to spend more time talking than killing. Not that it was a bad thing at that very moment in time, the longer the demon talked, the more chance they had of saving Molly.

'That's what this is about?' Molly said and laughed nervously. 'Lucifer wants revenge? Where did he end up, somewhere really horrible?'

The demon laughed again. 'Like anything could scare Lucifer.'

'Yeah, where _did_ he go?' Dean cut in, moving in front of Sam. 'We're all dying to know.'

Sam was puzzled by Dean's actions at first until he noticed Castiel had appeared in the corner of the warehouse, a few feet from where the demon was standing. If they could distract the demon for a few more seconds, Castiel would have it dealt with.

The demon grinned again as though it were finding it extremely difficult to keep a secret. It laughed again, an almost witch-like cackle.

'Word on the street…so to speak…he really went back. To Hell,' the demon began howling with laughter.

'Dude, this demons annoying,' Dean muttered to Sam from the corner of his mouth. Sam shrugged his agreement.

The demon's laughter stopped mid-way as Castiel grabbed its shoulder from behind and spun it to face him.

'Word on the street…' Castiel said, slamming his hand against the demon's face. 'You talk too much!'

With a final flash of light, the demons body went limp and slumped to the floor. Sam ran to Molly's side, closely followed by Dean. Molly smiled and raised her hand towards Cass, inviting him for a high five. Cass raised an eyebrow, nonplussed.

Sam couldn't help but laugh out loud despite the throbbing pain in his head. Molly glared at him.

'What?' she retorted. 'He does sarcastic _you're-going-down-bitch_ one-liners but he doesn't do victory fives?'

Castiel looked to Sam, looking ever more puzzled. 'I have no idea what she is talking about. It is very worrying.'

'What's more worrying,' Dean said, kicking the demon's arm away from his foot. 'Is what the hell is going on, Cas? Lucifer is on the hunt for two of us now and you've been holding back on us. We need answers and fast.'

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**A/N - there you have it. hope it was battle-some enough. I need a rest now. also, it perplexes me as to the practicality of castiels trench coat when in fight situations which is why I had to put the little moment in there, I doubt he's that bad of a fighter that you could overcome him by grabbing his trenchcoat but I had a funny mental image so I went with it...xx**


	12. Chapter 11

**Woo! I'm back again, been sooo busy and had major writers block! **

**It's officical - 'Molly is the Shnizz' - I'm assuming that's a good thing - although she may not be after you read this chapter. Once again, I've no idea where this links in to season 5 now although I may have to pinch a bit of the season 5 storyline to make this story work which I really didn't want to do but I'm hoping it will be more of a reference than a direct theiving of ideas! Also if this continues to contradict season 6 at all that will be because I have seen none of it - it hasn't been on TV in the UK to my knowledge. **

**Anyway enough rambling - I really hope you enjoy this chapter and understand where Molly is coming from. **

**Thanks again for still reading and reviewing the junk I keep writinge! You are all fab!**

**Oh and Merry Christmas!**

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****Chapter Eleven**.

By the time they had packed up their things, hit the road and made it into the new motel room that Dean insisted on driving a hundred miles to, Sam's head had begun to throb and all he wanted to do was rest. He had made a point of staying awake, knowing that sleeping with a concussion was supposed to be a bad thing. Given that he had managed to keep conscious he figured his head felt worse than it actually was.

Dean pushed the door open and strode into the room, dumping his bag on the first available bed. Castiel had left shortly after Dean had announced they would be driving, stating 'I'll call you.' The words sounded odd to Sam, coming from the angel's mouth – they were too colloquial for him. Needless to say, Dean was pissed off and displaying said anger in a less than child like manner by angrily flicking his phone open and hitting a speed dial entry.

As he heard Dean barking an irritable message onto Castiel's voicemail, Sam started to roll his eyes but stopped when he realised it hurt to do so. He caught Molly looking at him, a suspicious look of concern on her face. Shrugging, he plodded across to the other bed and lay down, not bothering to remove his jacket. He just wanted the weight off his feet.

Molly swept the room with a glance. Dean had clearly claimed his stake on the first bed, his bag indicated so and Sam was already crashing out on the other - looked like it was the couch for her. Significantly faded, it was positioned beneath the window adjacent to the beds. It didn't look comfortable and it was no doubt sat in a draft.

'Huh, so much for chivalry,' she muttered to no one in particular and then almost laughed. She wasn't exactly feeling like a damsel in distress these days.

She headed past the beds and dumped her own bag – little there was in it – on the couch before sinking down into the cushions. If this was where she was resting up tonight, she sure as hell was going to keep Dean from getting his odious feet on it!

No sooner had she settled herself as comfortably as possible on the lumpy piece of furniture, than Castiel appeared next to her with a flutter of invisible wings.

'Jesus Cass!' she cursed simultaneously with Dean.

'I would appreciate it if the two of you would not blaspheme in my presence,' the angel said, no hint of sarcasm in his voice where one might expect.

Molly looked at Dean who raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulder slightly as if to say 'what can you do?' She would have smirked were she not concerned about the conversation that would no doubt unfold in the next few minutes. After defeating the demons at the warehouse Dean had told Castiel in no uncertain terms that he was going to explain everything he knew. How Dean knew the angel had been holding back was anyone's guess – good judge of behaviour perhaps. Either way, Molly was worried about what would be revealed. The last time Cass had information, it was to inform them that Molly was a weapon wanted by Lucifer. Every time he found something out, it seemed to be at her expense.

'Where have you been?' Sam asked, moving himself into a sitting position on the bed.

'Looking for answers,' Castiel responded looking at Sam briefly before turning his attention back to Dean.

'So?' Dean said, impatiently. 'What did you find out and how much of it did you already know?'

Castiel's eyes flicked to look at Molly and she could have sworn he almost looked guilty. _Here it comes_, she thought. _What have I done now?_

'Where would you like me to start?' Castiel asked looking at Dean again.

'Gee I don't know Cass,' Dean began sarcastically. 'How about, what you've been doing the past two weeks – '

'I have already explained that, I was trying to find Molly's soul,' Castiel cut in.

'Yeah, we got that,' Dean said. 'Limbo isn't just a fraternity party game, what I don't get is why?'

'Why?' Castiel repeated, sounding confused.

'Why did you go looking for her soul? Why resurrect her?' Dean asked.

_Charming_, Molly thought to herself but chose not to voice it. After all, Dean had a point.

'Dean!' Sam interrupted, clearly offended by his question also.

'Oh relax Sam!' Dean snapped, his impatience becoming more profound. 'You know what I mean. No one gets pulled from damnation or limbo or wherever without an ulterior motive.'

Molly sat silently on the couch, not sure how or where she could chip into the conversation. It was a little annoying being the subject of conversation but consulted on nothing – it seemed to be happening far too often. Now it seemed Sam and Dean were about to have some kind of sibling squabble about the whole thing. _Men, honestly!_

'Look, as flattered as I am by how ecstatic you are at my return Dean,' Molly finally interrupted her voice dripping with sarcasm. 'Can you at least give Castiel chance to answer you?'

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again, reluctantly admitting defeat it seemed. Sam appeared to be sulking slightly but said nothing. Molly fixed her eyes on Castiel both wanting to push the conversation on and to ignore the way her mind had suddenly wandered to her feelings for Sam. It was not the time or place to be thinking how sweet he looked with a pout not to mention it was a stupidly girly thing to think about at a time like this.

'I brought Molly back because I was asked to,' Castiel said gently.

'Who asked you?' Molly could hear her voice tremble slightly as fearful anticipation set in.

'Let me guess, God told you to do it?' Dean cut in sarcastically.

Castiel's expression twitched slightly as though he were about to show some kind of emotion. Molly couldn't detect what it was but the angel's silence was confirmation enough.

Dean exhaled a sharp laugh. 'God told you to do it? That's just perfect.'

'Who do you think gave the order to raise you, Dean?' Castiel snapped, his voice rising to a level threatening enough to make Molly nervous.

Dean remained silent.

'I thought so,' Castiel said. 'Teach you to be a smart ass.'

'Why did he ask you to bring me back?' Molly asked, tucking her hands between her knees to stop them from shaking.

It was now Castiel's turn to be silent. Molly looked at Dean who said nothing and then to Sam. His face looked grim which did not fill her with confidence. She looked to Cass again.

'Please tell me,' she pleaded.

'I can't,' Castiel said regretfully.

'Why not?'

'My instructions -' Castiel began.

Sam interrupted before he could finish the sentence, feeling his anger rising up inside him.

'Oh, that's crap Cass and you know it!' he snapped at him from across the room. 'It's been a long time since you've followed your instructions.'

The angel shrugged and said nothing. A few minutes of tense silence passed. Sam wanted to get up and shake Castiel by the collar of his trench coat but he knew it would do no good. Castiel was not one to be shifted from a decision.

'Ok, fine,' Dean finally broke the silence as he sat down in a chair. 'What can you tell us? What about Lucifer?'

'Lucifer is back and according to several demons, he really was in the pit,' Castiel said, looking dubiously at Molly.

'That's insane,' Molly said looking across at Sam as if expecting him to back her up.

Sam sat and said nothing. He didn't know what to say. There was always the possibility that the demons were lying but something deep in his gut told him that perhaps it was true. Maybe Molly really had sent Lucifer back.

'Sam?' Molly said.

He hated the pleading in her voice. Sam knew how much she had resisted her abilities before, how much of a freak she felt. By sitting and making no attempt to reassure her, he had probably made her doubt his faith in her.

'I don't know,' Sam said at last. 'The demons could be lying but do you really believe that?'

'But it's not how my power works –' Molly started to say.

'How much do you really know about your powers?' Dean asked. 'You're a hybrid of two supernatural species, who knows what that combination can do?'

Molly glared at him. 'Thank you for reaffirming my lack of humanity Dean.'

'Wait,' Sam said as something occurred to him. 'Your father – he said he was half human, remember?'

'Yes!' Molly exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly. 'So that proves it, I can't have sent Lucifer to hell. I'm not strong enough.'

Sam resisted the urge to tell her that her powers seemed to have been pretty strong since she had returned, conjuring things faster than she had before, with less effort. A fridge full of beer might have been insignificant to her but it had set Sam's curiosity into over drive.

'For now, I think we need to assume that you are,' Castiel said.

'Even if I did, he didn't stay there,' Molly pointed out.

Castiel nodded. 'True, but it provided a temporary solution. Perhaps if you were able to control your powers, develop them, we might be able to use them to send him back more permanently.'

'No freaking way!' Dean snapped, interrupting. 'We don't know the first thing about how her powers work and you want her to start playing around with them? Messing around with supernatural abilities was how Lucifer was raised in the first place!'

Sam lowered his gaze. He wished Dean didn't have to bring it up at every given opportunity – he thought they were past it by now - but he did have a point. Developing his own powers had brought nothing but trouble – apocalyptic trouble at that.

'I think Cass has a point,' Molly said, quietly. 'If there's a chance we can send him back, we should take it. Maybe that's why I was brought back.'

'We wouldn't have to guess if someone would get down from his heavenly high horse and tell us!' Dean snapped bitterly.

Sam remained quiet. When Dean was pissed off, there was no curbing his attitude. He would say what he was thinking, most of the time. His shoot first ask questions later philosophy applied to verbal attacks as well as physical ones.

'I've told you already Dean!' Cass shouted, standing up, his face a picture of fury. 'I cannot tell you why Molly was brought back. I am not _permitted_ to tell you.'

'Whatever!' Dean shouted in return, standing up from his seat. 'This whole conversation has been a complete waste of time. I asked you for answers Cass and all you've done is give us more questions.'

Cass sighed 'I'm not permitted to tell you.' He said again.

'Sam's right!' Dean shouted. 'That's never stopped you before.'

Castiel didn't reply. Sam sighed, hating the feeling that they were all just going around in circles. Dean kicked the chair he had been sitting on. The force of his anger sent it scraping across the floor before he marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

'I'm sorry,' Castiel said looking only at Molly before making his usual instant disappearance. Her hair blew across her face in the slipstream his exit created.

Sam sighed and stood up. He wandered over to the chair and placed it back beside the table. Molly had remained quiet after Castiel vanished and Sam wasn't sure what to say to her. He turned to look at her. She hadn't moved from the couch and was sitting with her head in her hands. Sam walked over and sat beside her.

'Hey you,' he said gently, taking her hands in one of his so that she was forced to look up.

She looked at him and shrugged almost as though she were ready to give up.

'Are you alright?' Sam asked, stroking the side of her face with his other hand.

Molly moved her face away so that he had no choice but to drop his hand onto his knee.

'I think it's been a long time since I've been alright,' she said.

Sam nodded and managed a weak attempt at a reassuring smile. She had certainly had a lot thrown at her in the past few weeks, finding out about her parentage, dying and coming back. It was hardly a normal sequence of events.

'It'll be OK,' Sam said, squeezing her hand gently. 'We'll find out what's going on, we always do.'

Molly shook her head dejectedly. 'Sam, this is all far too complicated to just get sorted out overnight.'

'I realise that,' Sam said. 'Why don't we forget about it for now?'

'Forget about it?' Molly laughed scornfully and Sam was a little taken aback. 'How the hell am I supposed to do that?'

Sam put his hands on both sides of her face and looked at her firmly. He knew there wasn't much chance of any of this being forgotten but he was alone with her for the first time since she had returned and he didn't want their time to be taken up by talk of the drama that was their lives.

'I'm sure I could help you forget,' he whispered moving his face close to hers.

For a split second Molly thought she was going to be unable to resist him. She knew she had never felt for anyone the way she felt for Sam but she had already made up her mind. Her decision had been made once the fog cleared from her head following her resurrection.

Pressing her hand against his chest she gently pushed him away before he could kiss her. His brow furrowed in confusion and she knew it was now or never. She couldn't drag this out any longer. There were only so many times she could rebuke his advances.

'Sam, this isn't going to happen,' she said, surprised by her own bluntness. She had hoped to be a bit gentler about it.

'What?' Sam said, making a poor attempt at feigning ignorance.

'We can't go back to how it was before, Sam. I don't want to,' she said, wondering if it was as painful for him to hear the words as it was for her to say them.

The hurt expression on his face said it all. Why he had to be so open and honest around her she didn't know.

'Why?' he asked, his voice firm but patient.

'When I died,' she swallowed as the memory flashed through her mind. 'It severed our connection. I can't influence you anymore – '

'And you don't want to risk it again?' Sam asked his voice changing slightly as he appeared to find it difficult to retain his disappointment. 'It was a risk last time but that didn't stop anything!'

Molly stood up, feeling some anger begin to rise in her. How could he not even try to understand?

'Stop being so selfish, Sam!' she snapped. 'I am trying to _spare _you here. If Lucifer thinks I have any influence over your actions, he could try to use me again and we will be right back where we started!'

'He can _still_ use you,' Sam protested, standing up also. 'He knows how I feel about you. That's all he needs!'

He reached for her. Molly batted his hand away and stepped back.

'Just listen to what I'm saying Sam!' she said, making her voice as harsh as she could. 'This ended the minute I died and it's not happening again. It's over. I don't _want_ to be with you – it isn't worth the trouble.'

She made the mistake of looking at him as she finished her speech. His eyes had glazed over and he was either making no attempt to disguise his pain or he was unable to. He ran his hand through his hair and looked at a loss of for words.

'Molly –' he said quietly, pausing to take a breath. 'You don't need to do this.'

'It's what I want,' she said, turning and heading for the bathroom so she didn't have to look at him any longer.

She pushed the door open, walked in and slammed it purposefully behind her just in time for her tears to fall. Leaning back against the door she clamped her hand over her mouth so that he wouldn't hear her sobs. Tears spilled down her face, wetting her hand as she slid herself down to sit on the floor.

She knew she was doing the right thing, that this was the only way she could at least try to protect Sam better than she had last time.

She just wished it didn't have to hurt so much.

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**My apologies for Molly going all Edward Cullen on Sam but I had to do it. Not sure why I did but I did. Hope I haven't put you all off. Am working on chapter twelve it may be up later this week, maybe even before christmas if I get the rest of the shopping done! Last minute me!**


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N - as promised, one more chapter up before Christmas. Hope everyone is feeling less stressed about the holiday season than I am, although finally finished my present shopping today. Woo! **

**This chapter is a bit of a filler, some question answering and building the relationship between Molly and Dean. They didn't get along very well in the first story but it's important to the story that they do now. Tried to add in a bit of comedic Sam just to break up all the angst that seems to be going on in this story lately. I'm thinking there may be an unrelated case soon, just for a bit more action before the main arc of the story starts to take hold. Thanks for still reading. **

**and MyRealityIsFiction - you are wrong, Molly is not the Shizz...you are! :) thanks for the support!**

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**Chapter Twelve.**

The bar was packed with people; men who looked down on their luck, truckers hustling pool and women wearing far too much make up desperately trying to get the attention of those who appeared to be winning the game. Dean wrinkled his nose at the smell of spilled liquor combined with a poor clean up job. It was the type of place where the smell had mutated into the atmosphere, never to be removed. The floor felt tacky beneath his feet as he moved towards the dimly lit bar and took a seat on a leather covered stool with a rip in the material.

The place was rank, if he was honest, and he had seen plenty of unpleasant drinking holes. A miserable looking barman approached him and grunted something that sounded like 'what'll it be?' Dean ordered a beer when what he really wanted was whisky and for the bottle to be left. Maybe later, he told himself as he picked up the bottle the bartender placed in front of him and took a swig.

He pulled a face as he swallowed the liquid. It was warm and tasted like ditchwater. Dean sighed and put the bottle down wishing he could, for once, just catch a break.

'Come here often?' a gravelly voice asked from beside him.

'Look buddy, I don't swing that way –' Dean started to say but stopped when he looked up and saw that it was Castiel.

The angel raised an eyebrow. Dean wasn't sure Cass had a face for when he was attempting to be funny but he was pretty sure if he did, that was it. Hell, he wasn't sure Cass knew _how_ to be funny but if he wasn't still seething with him, Dean might have congratulated him on the attempt.

Castiel sat on the stool next to Dean, folding his hands on the wooden countertop of the bar before them. Dean took another swig of the foul beer, forgetting for a moment that it was nearly the most disgusting thing he had ever tasted. He winced and set the bottle down again, not in the mood for another conversation with his celestial friend.

'Dean – '

'Save it, Cass,' Dean interrupted. 'I'm not in the mood.'

'Honestly, Dean,' Castiel sighed. 'Sometimes you behave like a petulant child.'

'Deal with it,' Dean said, waving the bartender over.

If he was going to have to listen to this, he wanted something stronger and with better flavour. Ordering a shot of whisky and for the bottle to be left, he was surprised to find the man give him two glasses and hoped that the 'come here often' comment had not been overheard and taken seriously.

'You want one?' Dean muttered begrudgingly once the bartender had disappeared to the other end of the bar.

'Why not,' Cass said, taking the second glass and holding it for Dean to fill.

Dean knew it was a ploy to get the conversation going. Castiel would need a hell of a lot more than a glass or a bottle to feel any effect from the alcohol. The angel raised his glass, muttered 'cheers' and downed the drink in one.

'Slow down,' Dean said sarcastically.

'Why? I can't feel the effects,' Cass said, characteristically missing the point of Dean's sarcasm.

'OK,' Dean said, downing his own shot. 'What do you want?'

Castiel picked the bottle up and refilled Dean's glass.

'To explain,' he said, plainly.

'You had your chance, man, what about your 'instructions'' Dean made air-quotes with his fingers as he spoke the last word scornfully. 'Frankly I've been deceived by angels enough for one lifetime thanks.'

The angel slid Dean's glass back towards him. 'My instructions were not to tell Sam or Molly.'

Dean looked up sharply. 'What?'

He could have sworn the corner of Castiel's mouth twitched as though he were suppressing a smile.

'Sam and Molly can not know but there was no specification about the information I was to share with you.'

Castiel threw another shot of whisky back as Dean attempted to pick his chin up from the bar. His curiosity was well and truly sparked but he seemed to have found him at a loss for words. He knocked back the drink Castiel had poured him and placed his glass down for another refill as his brain began to re-engage.

'Ok, so what is it?' Dean asked, his anger now gone completely.

'They both have a purpose,' Castiel said plainly, pushing Dean's glass back towards him. 'A destiny if you will.'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'Well that's original.'

Castiel shot him a look that Dean could only translate as being mild annoyance.

'So what is it?' Dean shrugged defeated. 'This _destiny_?'he added putting on a tone of mock-enigma once again accompanied by air quotes.

Castiel swiped at Dean's hands. 'Grow up, Dean. You may not be a believer but this is fact. Sam and Molly can not know – it could alter their futures.'

Dean interrupted him again. 'Got it Doc, you want to check on the space time continuum there while you're at it?'

Castiel looked dubious. 'I don't get it.'

'Dude, you seriously need to watch a movie from time to time.' Dean sighed. 'Never mind. So, what is it that they are supposed to do?'

'They have to be together,' Castiel said.

'To be together?' Dean repeated. 'That's their destiny?'

'Yes,' Castiel said simply with a curt nod.

'That's romantic,' Dean said sarcastically.

'Romance has nothing to do with it,' Castiel said, again missing Dean's point. 'Their union is of great importance.'

Dean pulled a face; he really did not want the mental image of his brother's 'union' with Molly or any other woman for that matter appearing in his mind.

'That's a little dramatic Cass don't you think?' Dean said, swilling the liquid around in his glass.

'No,' Castiel replied blankly. 'It's fact – some unions are meant to be - your parents for example.'

Dean really wished the angel would stop using the word 'union'. He sighed again and looked down at his glass. 'Yeah and look how great that turned out for everyone!'

Before the angel had chance to respond, they were both distracted by the sound of the door of the bar slamming against the wall. They looked up in unison to see Sam storming in. Glancing around, Dean's younger brother's eyes fell on where they were sitting before he marched over and took the empty stool beside Cass. Without a word he snatched the whisky bottle from the counter top and proceeded to down a large amount of the liquid straight from the bottle.

'Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?' Dean asked, incredulously. Sam drank more than he used to but Dean had never seen him this determined to get wasted.

His younger brother simply scowled at the pair of them before storming off to the other side of the room, the bottle still in his hand. The bartender shot an irritated look his way so Dean tossed a couple of notes onto the bar. He hadn't seen Sam this pissed off in a long time.

'You think we should go talk to him?' Dean said to Castiel who had watched Sam's retreat with troubled eyes.

Castiel looked back at Dean with a smirk that to the Winchester looked completely out of place on the angel's face.

'Not we – you.' Cass said before vanishing into thin air as usual.

Dean huffed out an irritated breath.

'Super, thanks for the support,' he muttered to no-one in particular before turning and marching purposefully towards his brother who appeared to have almost already drained the remnants of the bottle which had been half full when he had taken it.

X X X

Molly exhaled wearily and rubbed her eyes. They still felt raw from all the tears. She knew Sam probably thought she had been too harsh and in some ways she had been purposely. Her choice of words, telling him she didn't want to be with him, trying her hardest to make him feel bad so he would accept it, had been difficult. The words seemed to have fallen from her mouth with much more ease than it had been for her to hear them. It hadn't been long after her retreat to the bathroom when she heard the main door slam and a deafening silence had descended on the motel room.

It had been two hours and none of the three men had returned – or was it two men? She wasn't sure about the gender she should assign to Castiel. He looked and sounded like a man but technically he was an angel and if that Matt Damon movie was anything to go by… Either way, she was still alone sitting in the silence hoping, as much as she didn't want to face Sam that they would be back soon. Maybe she could sort out some food for them for when they did return, give her a purpose instead of sitting around moping like a broken hearted high school girl who had just broken up with her boyfriend.

She exhaled a mirthless laugh. It seemed ridiculous referring to Sam as her boyfriend –or ex-boyfriend for that matter. What she had felt between the two of them had been so much deeper that it made the label sound weak, immature and meaningless.

'Ok,' she said aloud. 'You were supposed to be doing something instead of moping. Don't be such a girl!'

After verbally chastising herself, she stood up and closed her eyes, trying hard to visualise what she wanted. The kitchen could do with being cleaner and brighter – why they had to stay in the biggest dives she didn't know – and they needed food. Deciding their usual menu of fast food would be better accepted along with the fact they didn't have to sit around the table and make nice if their meals came in boxes, she opted for a range of grease filled-cholesterol inducing eats.

No sooner had she opened her eyes and began to survey her handiwork (could it be called handiwork when she hadn't technically lifted a finger?) than the door flew open with a crash, sending her heart beat into overdrive.

A very disgruntled looking Dean stumbled in, supporting the weight of a semi-conscious, clearly intoxicated Sam. If Molly hadn't known the reason for Sam's state, she might have actually laughed at how funny the pair looked. Dean was not a short man but with the extra inches to his brother's height and the dead weight he had become, Dean looked half as short as Sam.

'Little help here?' Dean said shooting her an annoyed glare.

At that point Sam lifted his head, his floppy hair dangling over his frowning eyes, and belched ominously. 'I think she's helped enough tonight.' He slurred bitterly.

'Sam you are such a pansy sometimes.' Dean grumbled, looking helplessly at Molly who still had not moved, unsure of how she might actually help.

'Pansy, pansy, pansy,' Sam mumbled in a sing-song like manner.

'Dude, he's so wasted,' Molly said, finally finding her voice.

'No shit,' Dean quipped. 'How did you figure that one? Seriously this kid weighs a tonne, think you could help?'

Molly shrugged and moved towards the pair, intending to support the other side of Sam so they could lead him to a bed. Sam chose the moment to flail his free arm around dismissively. Unfortunately in his drunken state, the fine co-ordination he possessed in battle was no more. As he waved his arm in the air declaring he didn't need any help, he managed to smack Molly square in the face.

'Fuck!' Molly shouted clapping a hand on the eye he had managed to wallop. 'You know what, he can help himself Dean, let him fall on the floor for all I care.'

'That's just it!' Sam grunted, removing his other arm from around Dean's shoulder and wobbling precariously on his feet. He pointed accusatorily at her albeit completely in the wrong direction to where she was standing. 'You don't care do you? Made that one quite clear!'

With that the gargantuan Winchester stumbled to the nearest bed, tripping on his feet and landing face down onto the pillows. A few seconds later the sound of his ragged snores informed them that he had indeed passed out.

Molly looked at Dean and gave him what she hoped was an apologetic smile.

'I'm sorry Dean, I know this is the last thing we need right now.'

To her surprise Dean smiled gently at her, not a hint of blame in his expression.

'It's not your fault,' he said, walking towards her and moving her hand so he could inspect the damage Sam had accidently inflicted. 'He's a terrible drunk.'

'I noticed,' Molly said, wincing as Dean carefully placed two fingertips beneath her eye. 'How's it look?'

Dean dropped his hands to his sides and grinned in his boyish manner.

'No worse than you did before,' he joked before wandering over to the table and taking a seat.

Molly thanked him for the sarcastic compliment and joined him at the table, her stomach rumbling demandingly for the first time in a while. She picked up a burger and sniffed it warily. Dean, who had already taken a large mouthful, paused and stared at her, a cautious look on his face.

'Wha-?' he said around the mouthful of bread and meat.

'Nothing,' Molly shrugged, amused by Dean's reaction to her trepidation. 'I've just never eaten something I produced before; I was a little worried how it would be. Does it taste ok?'

Dean slowly chewed the mouthful a few times before swallowing in an almost nervous looking manner. A few seconds of silence passed before he nodded and breathed what appeared to be a sigh of relief.

'Tastes fine,' he said.

Molly laughed. 'You really thought I might have poisoned you, huh?'

Dean shrugged and placed his burger back down on the wrapper, taking a large gulp of the soda beside him. Molly took a bite of her own burger, finding she agreed with Dean's approval of the food. It tasted pretty good if she said so herself. A loud snore cut through the quiet sounds of their eating and her eyes drifted towards where Sam lay, sleeping soundly.

'He's really pissed at me, huh?' she said suddenly feeling off her food again as the conversation they had had ran through her mind again.

'Nah,' Dean shrugged. 'He's just sulking or something.'

Molly attempted a smile but she was sure it only came out as a weak grimace. 'I think I really hurt his feelings.'

'He's a big boy; he'll get over it eventually. What happened exactly?' Dean asked before taking another enthusiastic bite of his meal, cursing when some of the dressing shot out and landed on his shirt.

'Sam didn't say?' Molly handed him a serviette.

Dean shook his head, swiping at the ketchup stain with the paper. 'Just that you guys had broken up or something.'

'I can't be with him Dean,' she said, surprised at how troubled her voice sounded.

Dean apparently had sensed it too. He stopped attempting to clean his shirt and looked up at her. The expression on his face made her feel for a split second that he was _her_ concerned older brother ready to offer her his wisdom.

'I thought something was wrong,' he said quietly.

'What do you mean?' Molly frowned, surprised by Dean's sudden quietened demeanour.

'Ever since you came back, I noticed you were acting strange – strange that usual anyway. Does something feel wrong?' He gestured towards her. 'With you I mean, do you feel different?'

Molly shook her head. 'No I don't, considering. I just think its best if Sam and I are not involved. Look what happened last time, how Lucifer wanted to use me. It's better this way.'

For some strange reason, Molly felt as though she were having a very similar conversation to that which she had had with Sam a few hours earlier. The difference was that this time the face across from her didn't look disappointed or hurt, it nodded with understanding.

'I think I get where you're coming from,' Dean said, standing up from his chair and twitching his head in Sam's direction. 'And give Sasquatch over there some time and he will too.'

Molly nodded, feeling a little less guilty than she had before. Dean yawned loudly.

'I'm beat and you look like you could use some rest yourself.' He said. 'I'll take the couch.'

'Dean, you don't have to do that,' Molly started to protest but he waved his hand dismissively.

'My father may have dragged me up but I've still got manners. I'll take the couch, no arguments.' Dean said, insistently before heading over to the piece of furniture in question and throwing himself down onto it.

It didn't take long for the sound of Dean's own quiet snores to join those of Sam's rough breaths. Molly looked wearily at the piles of half eaten food on the table. With a click of her fingers, they were gone as though they had never been there in the first place. As she trudged to the remaining bed Dean's question returned to her. She didn't feel as if anything was different about her but her abilities were getting much easier to use. Time would only tell whether or not that was something to worry about.

The mattress squeaked slightly as she perched on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes. Sam grunted and shifted in his sleep, his face now positioned toward her. She didn't know if she could sleep knowing he was so close. Suddenly the couch seemed a more inviting option but Dean was out for the count, as she glanced behind her to look at him, she doubted there was much chance of him moving now.

Out of nowhere, Sam made a noise that sounded almost like a whimper.

'Molly…'

The slurred sound of her name brought her attention right back to Sam. He was still clearly fast asleep and would be for hours if he had drank as much as he appeared to have done. A deep frown ran across his forehead as he mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. Without thinking about what she was doing, Molly moved and knelt beside the bed so that her face was level with his. He mumbled her name again.

'What?' she whispered, knowing full well that he would not remember speaking to her in the morning.

'I love you,' he mumbled, his eyes still firmly shut.

Molly brushed the hair away from his face and sighed, feeling her heart pound painfully in her chest. She knelt forward and pressed her lips tentatively against his cheek before pulling back and letting his hair fall back in place.

'I love you too, Sam. That's why it has to be this way.'

Knowing that if she sat and looked at his sleeping form any longer that she would lose her resolve she quickly climbed into her own bed. Turning so that her back was towards him, she swiped at the salty wet sliver that tracked its way down her face.

There was no doubt about it – it was going to be hard being around Sam every day, seeing her pain reflected in his face.

Perhaps the only solution was to leave.

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**A/N - I love drunk Sam! In season 2 (episode name completely escapes me) 'You're bossy...and short' 'Are you drunk?' 'Yeahh...stupid!'**

**Also wanted a bit more of Dean's caring side in this chapter (we all know he's a big softy really). **


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N - OK so I know its the Christmas holidays but for some unknown reason I've written another chapter already. I'm terrible, once I'm back onto something, I'm obsessed. I now have future ideas and a possible ending in mind that I hope are going to be really good. I've written a scene for a future chapter and got a bit excited which is perhaps both sad and egotistical of me but never mind lol. **

**This chapter is just a bit of rambling really, setting more of Molly n Sams relationship up and also because I didn't want to just leave the elephant sitting in the room so to speak. The next chapter (fingers crossed) will be an action chapter. **

**Once again, to everyone who is still reading, following, adding this story to favourites/alerts or reviewing - thank you very much it makes me smile whenever I get an email to notify me of such things! **

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**Chapter Thirteen.**

Anyone who ever claimed waking from a night of drunken slumber was a slow, laboured process clearly had never experienced the simultaneous issues of a stabbing pain in the bladder and the need to vomit. No sooner had the small chink of sunlight through the gap in the curtains caught Sam in the eye than he was awake, on his feet and racing for the bathroom.

For a brief moment, whilst urinating, he was mislead into thinking the need to vomit had gone. The instant he flushed, the need returned and he was on his knees puking like there was no tomorrow. In his haste he had had no time to ascertain who was still in the motel room but there was no mistaking the chuckle he could hear on the other side of slightly ajar bathroom door.

'Shut up Dean,' he managed to grunt before feeling another tidal wave surge in his stomach and he released his stomach contents once again.

The chuckle continued but faded away as Dean moved away from the door. Sam knew he deserved it, the teasing from his brother, the blinding headache, and the burning sensation in his throat but nothing felt as bad as when his mind flickered back to the night before. The reason he had gone out and gotten wasted in the first place. In hindsight he had perhaps chosen to outlet his emotions in the wrong way. All he had succeeded in doing was making an ass of himself and his only companion was the toilet bowl he now appeared determined to hug until the room stopped spinning.

His memories after returning from the bar were nothing if but hazy. There were vague images that crossed his mind – mostly of Molly's face displaying a variety of feelings – surprise, anger, sadness. Without knowing the stories behind those images he knew the cause of the emotions – him. As angry as he may have been with her rebuttal of his advances and attempts at maintaining a relationship between them, the last thing he wanted was to cause her distress.

Wondering if he was still slightly drunk, causing his thoughts to drift into the sappy and pathetic, he decided to brave an attempt at standing. To his surprise, it was much easier than he expected and there appeared to be less room spinning and no more need to vomit. Flushing the offending fluid down the toilet, he rinsed his mouth quickly with water from the tap, wincing at the pain in his head when he stood up again a little too quickly.

'Better?' Dean greeted him with a smirk after Sam emerged weakly from the bathroom.

He avoided the temptation to glare at his older brother. He already felt like crap, he didn't need anything adding to it. Glancing around the room quickly he realised that Molly was nowhere to be seen. A rapid sinking sensation caused him to clutch his stomach suddenly.

'Dude if you're going to blow chunks again you can get yourself back in that bathroom,' Dean ordered, an air of distaste to his tone.

Sam shook his head. The ache in his gut was nothing to do with drinking a half bottle of neat whisky.

'Molly,' he mumbled, not intending to speak aloud.

'Out on the decking,' Dean said, gesturing that way with the coffee mug in his hand, clearly thinking Sam had been asking.

Sam tried hard to repress the exhale of relief he felt at knowing she hadn't decided to leave…_yet_.

'Is she OK?' Sam asked, wincing as Dean clattered about noisily placing two more mugs on the counter and filling them with coffee.

'Go find out yourself,' Dean said irritably, sliding the two mugs towards Sam.

Sam took the mugs without another word wondering when his brother had become a mediator, however reluctantly. Glancing out of the window he noticed the crisp white frost coating the window frame and branches outside. Transferring one mug so that he carried them both in one hand, he pulled a blanket from the back of the couch before heading outside.

Molly shivered and pulled her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. She knew it was stupid sitting out here in the cold but she was half asleep, hoping the sharp air would wake her up and help her come to a decision. It was still early and she doubted Sam was awake yet but if she was going to leave, for some reason she didn't want to do it without saying goodbye.

There had been little reason for her to sleep during the night. Her mind replaying the words in her head; should she have been so harsh? Was it her fault it escalated into Sam's downward spiral into inebriation?

'Morning,'

The slightly hoarse but familiar voice took her by surprise and automatically she turned her head sharply to face him. She saw his eyes widen when he spotted the bruise on the left side of her face. After a split second of stunned silence, he moved quickly to sit on the step beside her, placing the mugs of coffee by his feet. His free hand went straight to the side of her face and she instinctively flinched, not simply because the bruise hurt like hell but because his fingertips were warm from the heat of the mugs he had carried and it brought up emotions she was trying desperately to repress.

As though his senses had left him briefly and now returned, Sam moved his hand away quickly and broke eye contact with her.

He thought he might be sick again. As wasted as he had been last night he vaguely remembered his arms waving around in mad drunken gesticulation. It didn't take a rocket scientist to work out who had given Molly the shiner.

'Sweet hear – 'He hesitated and corrected himself awkwardly. 'Molly, I'm so sorry.'

He looked down at his hands, wishing they didn't have to be so big and clumsy, knowing that he looked like a scolded child hanging his head in shame.

'Oh jeez Sam, it was an accident,' Molly said, dismissively. 'You were pretty out of it, don't feel bad.'

'Yeah but – ' Sam started to protest looking up at her, his eyes connecting with the crystal blues that had attracted him to her in the first place.

'But nothing,' Molly held up her hand. Forget about it.'

Seeing her fingers shaking from the cold, Sam remembered the drinks and blanket he had brought with him. He passed her a mug which she willingly took from him and threw the blanket over her shoulders before picking up his own drink and taking a gulp. The familiar taste of the caffeinated beverage relaxed him a little and already he could feel the tension in his head from the hangover beginning to dissipate.

They sat quietly, staring out at the silent parking lot belonging to the motel. They seemed to be sitting for a long time until Molly broke the silence.

'So…' she exhaled a mirthless laugh.

Sam glanced up at her and nodded. 'So I was an ass, huh?'

Molly smiled and shook her head. 'No, my fault entirely, I hurt you – on purpose.'

Sam felt a tiny sensation of hope that she had changed her mind rise in the pit of his stomach but he tried not to show it on his face. Clearly that made no difference, she knew him well enough to know what he was thinking.

'I still stand by what I said, I just wish I had said it better,' she said, looking at him pointedly. 'Should have been more sensitive.'

Sam shrugged and took a gulp of his coffee before speaking. 'I should have listened a little better to what you were trying to say. I still can't be OK with it, I don't see what difference it makes.'

Molly looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again as though trying to put her seriousness across. 'We both know how Lucifer wanted to use me last time, he knew I had the ability to influence you because we were both involved and now I don't have that. No more siren spell or whatever it is. I just don't want to put you in a situation again where he can manipulate either of us.'

Sam looked away and sighed. He couldn't understand why she didn't see that there were other ways Lucifer could use her to make him say yes. The sheer fact that he would die for her was enough, surely. He felt Molly's hand on his chin lifting his face to look at her again.

'What would you do if you were in my shoes?' she said firmly.

_Dammit! _She was right. He would do anything to protect her, even if it meant this. She had him at a loss for another comeback, another way of talking her round. He contemplated telling her that it felt like he had lost her all over again but figured that would do nothing but lay more guilt on top of what she was probably already feeling.

Instead he chose to ask the question that had been hovering at the back of his mind since he woke. He wasn't sure why his instincts were pointing to that conclusion, she certainly hadn't mentioned anything but it seemed to make sense as the next blow that she might deliver.

'Are you leaving?' he asked, quietly.

Molly felt herself twitch slightly as she heard the vulnerability in his voice. They were both hurting, she knew that but his tone suggested that if her answer were yes, that it would hurt him even more. She hesitated in her answer. Every cell of common sense was telling her it would be for the best if she went but every beat of her heart was telling her to stay.

'Molly?' Sam's voice, the same edge of fear in his tone, prompted her to answer, reminding her that no answer was worse than the one he didn't want to hear.

She placed her coffee mug on the floor beside her and looked at him. The weariness of a heavy night and the difficult few weeks he had had were evident on his face and she felt no desire to add to that – or so she told herself. Perhaps if she convinced herself she was doing it for him then she wouldn't feel so selfish for her choice.

Lifting the side of the blanket nearest to him, she tried to toss the end of it over his shoulders so that they could both get warm. Sam put down his own mug to help pull the blanket around him and shuffled closer to her.

'I'm not going anywhere just yet,' she said, quietly.

She made no protest as his arm slid around her back, pulling her so that she had no choice but to lean her head against his chest, feeling the warmth emanating from him. He pressed his lips against her hair and she automatically closed her eyes, basking in the closeness for this was as close as they would get from now on.

'I'm glad,' he mumbled into her head.

Just as she was thinking how great it would be to sit like this forever, no matter how cold it got, their brief tender moment was shattered. The motel door behind them opened and Dean's deep voice interrupted the silence.

'Hey, you guys finished making up yet? Bobby just called, we gotta go.'

Sam looked down at Molly and couldn't help but mirror the amused smirk she wore on her face. It took every ounce of strength he had not to hold her close and plant the most passionate kiss he could muster on her lips. Right now it wasn't what she wanted and if he pushed it might just send her packing. Having her here in whatever capacity was better than not having her at all.

_Yeah, you keep telling yourself that Sammy_, a voice in his head taunted as Molly stood and the blanket fell to the floor. An ominous chill ran through him and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the cold.

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**A/N - ah, I love Dean bless him and his wondering comedic timing. Next chapter may well be up in the next few days. **


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N - this chapter is slightly more lighthearted than the last few have been. I felt the need for some comedy so I went with comedy, hope it doesn't prove it be a mistake. I missed some of the quirky Molly banter that was in the demon fight in a previous chapter and thought it would be the last opportunity considering where the story is headed for the gang just to have some lighthearted moments. **

**Hope you enjoy this for now before the serious stuff comes back. **

**Also, the 'Hey Bobby!' thing had to be mentioned a few times at the start of this chapter simply from a personal joke I have with my sister. Having noticed that Sam n Dean always say 'Hey Bobby' whenever they see him/phone him or knock on his door so we tend to randomly shout it to one another over the phone (mad I know). Along with 'pudding!' too! hehe **

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**Chapter Fourteen.**

Molly had never met Bobby. She had heard a bit about him from Sam and Dean when conversations or explanations went that way. The little she did know was that he was a hunter, a pretty experienced one at that. The other thing she knew about Bobby - and this was something she gained not from facts given to her but the slight edge she heard in the men's' tones when they spoke about him – he meant a hell of a lot to the two Winchesters.

That however, did not stop the nerves rattling around in her stomach as she sat in the back passenger seat of the Impala as it rocked and rumbled its way down the dirt track they were on. If he was anything of a hunter as Sam and Dean were, he would be cautious, have an eye on her. Hell, all Dean wanted to do was kill her when he found out what she was. Then again, how that had changed without her realising was as much a surprise to her as she guessed it was to anyone. Where he had been less hostile after his initial attempts to hunt her, there had always been an underlying air of distrust and anticipation as though he were waiting for the moment when he would have to end her. Now it seemed surreal to think that they could sit and share a cheeseburger and talk about whatever was on her mind. It was definitely surreal.

Surreal but comforting.

Her thoughts came back to the present as she saw the car drive beneath a beaten up old sign bearing 'Singer's salvage yard' across it in faded script. She took a deep breath and unclenched her hands, wondering how much Bobby had heard about her as the car pulled to a stop and the deep grumble of the Impala was no more. Funny how something so loud could actually be comforting. Its absence now sent new waves of uncertainty through her.

'Hey Bobby!' Dean called loudly towards the house after exiting the car.

The screen door came open and knocked against the wall of the house as the man she assumed was Bobby pushed the wheels of the chair he sat in, so that he was positioned just ahead of the main entrance to his house. He looked tired – a look she was quickly learning was synonymous with hunters of the supernatural – and so did the plaid shirt and ball cap he wore. Everything about him exuded a lifetime of hardship but the set of his jaw suggested he was anything if not determined. A real fighter. Molly was already beginning to see why the Winchesters respected him so much.

She observed as both Dean and Sam approached him with 'Hey Bobby' s and pats on the shoulder. There was an extra edge of guilt about Sam's body language but she shrugged it off as she tried to close the passenger door without bringing too much attention to herself. Unfortunately the creaks and squeaks attributed to a classic car such as that of the Impala, had no intention of letting her exit from the vehicle go unnoticed. That coupled with her accidently closing the door too hard so that it slammed left her completely conspicuous.

All three men lifted their heads and looked in her direction. Sam with the same expression he always had – sadness coupled with the affection her held for her, Bobby with the look of caution she had anticipated and Dean with a look that said 'what the hell you slamming my baby's door for?' She resisted the urge to laugh at Dean's expression, instead giving an awkward wave in their direction.

'Hey Bobby,' she said, having observed that that seemed to be the way everyone greeted him. 'I'm Molly.'

'I guessed as much,' Bobby replied, his voice gruff and unforgiving though she detected a light air of jest as though his unapproachable nature was just an act to make her uneasy until he made up his mind about her.

She glanced at Sam as though searching for help. He was fighting back a smirk and rather than saying anything just shot a wink in her direction. Bobby sighed loudly, returning the attention to him.

'Can we go inside already? I sit here any longer, I'm gonna start to rust,' he barked before skilfully twisting the wheels in opposite directions to each other in order to turn and head back into the house.

Molly found a grin creeping across her own face. Bobby Singer was a character, one that without a doubt reminded her of Dean, as though he were the future version of the older brother. Sam gestured with his head for her to follow them and, feeling more relaxed now the first introduction was over and no-one had tried to kill her, she willingly stepped forward towards the house.

X X X

Sam sighed gently, tracing his fingers along the condensation from the beer bottle he held. As per usual Bobby had offered them a drink and he had accepted but felt no desire to actually drink it. His mind was barely on the conversation the older man was having with Dean about the latest news on Molly and her reappearance. It was as though he were trying to block out any mention of her despite the fact she was perched on a chair not three feet away looking at her own beer with an equal lack of interest.

It made him angry that their lives had to be so complicated. He knew there was little they could do and he wondered what he was most angry about – the things that had befallen them all or the fact he had no control over it. The anger scared him sometimes – especially since the hunt that had taken him and Dean to a mental asylum where he almost lost it completely - but he did his best to hide it. Having Molly back and nearby made it a lot easier, somehow just her very presence calmed him and gave him hope though he didn't know for what.

He watched, resisting the amusement that threatened to wash over his face at the little mannerisms she had – some of which he had noticed before, some of which were new discoveries. She had always had the habit of glancing around the room somewhat rapidly as though by committing the information she gathered to memory were some way of making herself feel more comfortable. Another thing she was doing was winding one of her black curls round and round her finger until the strands pulled tight and she released it and started again. Sam wondered if that was her bored behaviour, she didn't appear to be paying much attention to what Dean and Bobby were saying…not that he was either.

'Sounds about right, what do you think Sammy?' Dean's voice cut in to his trance like state.

'Huh?' Sam said, snapping up to look at Dean as Molly turned her head to look at him curiously, perhaps sensing that he had been staring at her.

'I said it sounds like vampires to me, what do you think?' Dean said irritation clear in his tone.

'Uh, yeah, absolutely,' Sam lied, realising he had taken no notice whatsoever of the information Bobby had been relaying about some strange occurrences a couple of towns over. 'Just run it by me again.'

Dean rolled his eyes and clipped Sam sharply around the back of the head.

'Its vampires take my word for it,' he said, putting his own drink down on the table with a thud. 'Let's head out.'

Molly jumped up from her seat. She hadn't been paying much attention herself but she was keen to get involved in whatever they had to do. After the last fight where she had proved herself a little useful, she wanted more experience plus it gave her a welcome distraction from the burn of Sam's eyes which seemed to be constantly on her. When was he going to realise that she would not back down? That and the fact that she found it hard to suppress her excitement at the mention of vampires.

'Cool, where do we start? Garlic and wooden stakes?' she asked, somewhat naively, her only education in the subject coming from the 'University of Hollywood'.

She realised the error of her ways when a split second of silence passed between them before Dean and Bobby erupted into raucous laughter. Sam also appeared to be struggling not to smile. Molly figured she of all people should have realised the world of the supernatural was anything but what one might expect.

Dean rested his hand on Bobby's desk, gasping for air.

'Phew,' he exhaled, regaining himself slightly from his near-hysterics. 'That was a good one, Molly. You know they sparkle in the sun too?'

Molly raised an eyebrow, standing with her arms folded and a non too impressed look on her face. She wasn't particularly enjoying being the butt of the joke. With that thought an idea came to mind as she watched Dean still chuckling softly to himself whilst putting his coat back on.

'So are we going?' she asked, her tone drenched in impatience but her mind concentrating hard.

'Yeah, give me a minute,' Dean said, his arm half in his coat sleeve.

'Sure,' Molly smiled wickedly. 'I guess you need some time to find your pants, huh?'

Dean looked at her and noticed the mischievous look that had replaced her embarrassed expression at the exact same time he felt the draught on his legs. He froze in position thinking it couldn't possibly be true but on looking down discovered many a high school students' worse nightmare. His jeans were gone and he now stood in just his boxers and fully dressed top half. Damn her and her powers! How she had managed it he didn't know, all he had ever seen her do was create things, not take them away - with the exception of Lucifer of course. He was just thankful that he wasn't in public, not that he was easily embarrassed. It was more the surprise that had taken him aback.

'Very funny, Molly, very funny,' he grunted looking pointedly at him. 'Now give them back.'

Molly who had been grinning wildly, clearly enjoying the somewhat immature amusement she gained from her prank suddenly stopped smiling, her expression becoming sheepish. She glanced from Dean to Sam and back again.

'Actually, I have no idea where they went,' she admitted.

'Say what?' Dean shot back, hearing the tiny edge of horror in his tone.

Molly shrugged and smiled sweetly at him.

X X X

Dean was still grumbling under his breath an hour later as he pulled the car in to park outside the local mortuary. Sam smiled to himself glad to have had a reason to laugh. Molly appeared to be moving from the mood of highly amused to feeling slightly guilty. No matter how much she tried – and Dean had made her try for about half an hour before giving up – she could not conjure his denims back into existence. By that point the joke had worn thin for the older Winchester and he was somewhat peeved mostly because he had to trudge out into the cold to retrieve a new pair from his duffel bag in the trunk of the car. Bobby and Sam however had remained in the house still chortling loudly their amusement only heightened by Dean's bad mood.

Sam realised it had been a long time since he had seen Bobby with a smile on his face, in fact it had been a while since the older man had had reason to with everything that had been going on and how much he had suffered. The wink that Bobby had sent in Molly's direction as they left the house had made Sam think that she had been well and truly accepted into the group.

'OK,' Dean said, bringing Sam's thoughts back to reality with the usual authoritative air he had when working a case. 'I'll sneak in through the window at the back and get what we need; you guys keep the engine running.'

'Are you serious?' Molly said. 'This car is so loud we're going to draw attention to ourselves.'

'Hey, don't hate the Impala,' Dean said, his tone unamused.

'She's kind of right,' Sam said, jumping to her defence. 'Maybe we should move the Impala a couple of streets over.'

Dean appeared to think about it for a moment.

'Yeah, I guess I could make my way down the side streets, providing I don't get clocked when I'm inside, I should be able to make it pretty quickly.'

Sam nodded slipping into his own usual hunt mode as he did when he and Dean discussed strategy. It wasn't as though they hadn't broken into mortuaries before for whatever reason, should be the easiest part of the job in all fairness.

'Oh for goodness sake,' Molly snapped suddenly. 'How do you guys ever get anything done, I thought you knew what you were doing?'

Dean shot a look in Sam's direction. He looked as puzzled as Sam felt.

'We do,' Sam protested. 'We just gotta make sure we know exactly where each of us is going to be to make sure it goes smoothly.'

'In all seriousness who is going to 'clock you'?' Molly asked, making air quotes as she repeated Dean's words. 'The people in there are dead, I'm pretty sure they'll stay quiet.'

Dean frowned and Sam could sense that he was becoming irritated by Molly's contributions.

'Security,' he said in a slow, annoyed voice as though she were extremely dumb.

'Is that all?' Molly said, a slight smile playing on her face.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. 'All you have to do is sit here and be quiet, Molly, I don't get what your problem is.'

'It's just…' Molly paused. 'You seem to be over thinking the whole thing.'

'We're just being prepared,' Sam tried to explain, actually feeling a little sorry for Dean who was starting to look quite exasperated.

Molly laughed to herself and promptly exited the car, striding up to the main entrance of the building. Dean looked at Sam again. Sam shrugged, turning his hand palms up.

'Don't look at me, I got no clue,' he said to his older brother before patting him on the shoulder and getting out of the car to follow Molly.

He heard Dean leave the car as well, following quickly behind him. Sam rested his hand instinctively on the waistband at the back of his jeans just in case he needed to reach his gun in a hurry. To any passer by it would look as though he were simply adjusting them.

To his surprise as he reached the door and glanced through the window he saw Molly in a complete lip lock with the security guard behind the desk. He should have been completely jealous and horrified but he found the scene slightly amusing knowing that it was simply a means to an end.

'She moved on quick, huh?' Dean quipped from beside him. 'Didn't know she had a thing for the short, bald and pot bellied.'

'Shut up, Dean,' Sam instructed shrugging his shoulders at her in a silent 'what?' as she turned and grinned at him.

It should worry him that she seemed to be enjoying herself a little too much but part of him figured she needed to feel useful instead of a burden or a danger. Her sudden attitude change to her powers was a little unsettling though. Before she died she had been afraid that she lacked humanity, was nothing more than a monster and now here she was freely using her abilities for manipulative reasons.

She shrugged back as if to say 'guess this is working' as the security guard led her away from the desk and down a corridor before they both disappeared completely from sight.

'Guess we just wait, huh?' Dean said, looking like he couldn't quite believe they hadn't considered using Molly's siren powers to get what they needed.

Sam nodded but couldn't shake the sensation that every second felt like a minute. What was taking her so long? The sudden vibration and first few chords of an acoustic song split the silence. Quickly grabbing his phone from his pocket, he flicked it open without looking at the caller ID.

'Yeah?' he hissed into the mouthpiece.

'Hey Sam…just wondering exactly how much blood we need?' Molly's casual voice came down the line as though she were simply calling him up to check what they needed from the grocery store.

Sam tilted the phone slightly and looked to Dean 'It's Molly, she wants to know how much blood we need.' He said.

Dean laughed and shook his head, incredulously.

'Couple of pints should do it – ask her to pick up some pie while she's at it,' he joked, shaking his head and wandering back over to the car.

Sam repeated the answer back to her before snapping his phone shut and following Dean. He rested himself against the side of the Impala so that they were both standing side by side watching the door to the mortuary waiting for Molly to emerge. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

'What?' Sam looked at his brother, seeing how amused he was.

'Nothing,' Dean said. 'It's just some girl you got there!'

Sam huffed out a short humourless laugh. 'I haven't exactly 'got her' anymore.'

'She still playing hard to get, huh?' Dean asked, suddenly sounding serious again.

Sam shrugged his shoulders sadly. 'She's adamant she doesn't want us to be together, that it's too risky with her siren stuff.'

'Dude, I'm sorry,' Dean said, sounding genuinely concerned.

Sam eyed him suspiciously 'Yeah, because you are the last of the great romantics,' he said, sarcastically.

Dean looked as though he were about to say something in response but was cut off by the return of Molly as she practically skipped triumphantly down the steps from the building to meet them by the car. She held up a plastic bag and waved it from side to side. The bulges within it suggested she had taken more than a couple of pint bags of blood.

'Took all of three minutes,' she said, proudly. 'If I'd left you guys to it we'd still be in the Impala scratching our asses.'

She patted Dean on the cheek in mock condescension.

'Ok sweetie?' she crooned as though talking to a small child before pulling the back door open and reclaiming her position in the passenger seat.

Sam grinned and slapped Dean's shoulder casually as his older brother stood looking somewhat taken aback before opening the front passenger door and climbing in.

Dean laughed to himself and shook his head, amused by Molly's behaviour. It was good to see her looking a little happier than she had the past few days and her ballsy attitude was forcing him to smile again too.

'Yep, she's definitely something,' he said aloud to no-one in particular before walking around the car and getting back behind the wheel. He reversed the vehicle skilfully and steered it to the interstate headed for the town where Bobby suspected the vampire nest was.

Dean just hoped disposing of them was going to be as easy as getting the Dead Man's Blood had been.

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**A/N - and so the action begins with the next chapter...I've done it again, promised some action and then had a chapter of filling first lol. Sorry and Happy New Year if I don't post before then!**


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N - ok here comes the first chapter of two. I've still not really finished writing this installment but it was getting so long I decided to split it in half and leave it on a cliffie! The next chapter is almost done I just realised it would be better paced to post as two chapters. **

**Hope this is action packed enough for you and not too gruesome but it is vampires and beheading is essential so be warned if you are a bit squeamish. Don't think its quite bad enough to update the rating to M but this is my disclaimer - its mildly violent. **

**Enjoy n thanks for reading!**

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**Chapter Fifteen.**

It wasn't dark. It wasn't cold. Molly was no longer feeling the enthusiasm for checking out vampires. After the boys had done some admittedly impressive investigation whilst she stood back and watched, they had tracked down a house. The house itself was nothing spectacular, nothing stood out about it. She had half expected it to either be incredibly lavish or incredibly old and worn out. It was neither.

She felt her hands trembling slightly either from the morning breeze that blew by or the fear but she suspected it was mostly from the latter. Dean had filled her in on how they would incapacitate and dispose of the beasts. She had to admit that there was very little glamour about it – poison them with some dead man's blood and then lop their heads off with a machete and all in broad daylight. A far cry from hitting them with a cross, staking them through the heart or leaving them to burn in the sun. Apparently, according the older Winchester, none of those things really did anything.

Despite the lack of creative killing methods, she could see in his eyes that he was looking forward to it. She wondered how long you had to be a hunter before what should be frightening and disturbing became almost sport like. Or perhaps she had put him in the mood to kill something after the whole missing jeans debacle. It had taken her sometime to work out why she hadn't been able to return them – it should have been easy. The problem was she had taken very little notice of what he had been wearing; only focussing on what he would look like without them to create the effect. That along with the fact it had been extremely amusing to see him squirm as he realised he would have to go out to the car to get some new ones.

Sam and Dean had been talking quietly between themselves in the front seat of the Impala for some time now. Their voices were low and she couldn't make out what they were saying but the few times Sam's eyes glanced towards her suggested it was about her.

'So when are we going in?' she asked, interrupting them after finally becoming bored of waiting.

The two brothers turned in their seats to face her. Dean looked at Sam briefly before settling his gaze back on her.

'You're not,' he said, simply. 'It's too risky, you may possess some mad skills but you're not a hunter and I doubt you can do much in there aside from put yourself in danger.'

Molly opened her mouth to protest but Sam cut her off.

'You're our getaway driver,' he said with what looked like an attempt at a reassuring smile.

Molly folded her arms and scowled slightly. 'I won't get in the way, I was useful when we fought those demon's wasn't I?'

Sam fought hard not to smile. If Molly knew how much of a spoilt child she looked right now, she probably would have stopped pouting. He reached over the back of his seat and took her hand in his; ignoring the look Dean shot his way.

'Molly, when was the last time you fought a vampire?' he asked, gently.

Her scowl dissipated and she shrugged. 'Alright, I get your point – never. I just hate sitting back and feeling useless.'

From somewhere beside him Sam heard Dean groan at the gentle moment that was passing between Sam and Molly. His brother got out of the car without saying a word. Sam squeezed her hand.

'I don't want anything to happen to you because we let you go in there with us, alright? Its stupid and dangerous, I'm not trying to patronise you but Dean and I we've lost count of the number of times we've done this so please, just wait here?' he worded it as a request but he knew it wasn't one.

Molly nodded and smiled softly at him. 'Guess I'm just a glutton for punishment, huh? Fine, I'll stay here but you both better hurry and don't get yourselves hurt, alright?'

Sam nodded, smirking at the look of surprise on her face when he kissed her hand quickly before climbing out of the car himself. He stood and stretched his back slightly to relieve the ache that always came with sitting in the Impala too long.

'You quite finished?' Dean asked impatiently.

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded, following Dean's lead as he began crossing the road to get to the house.

In a stealthy advancement that had become so familiar to them that it was like an involuntary action the two brothers quickly and silently made their way to the front of the house. Their weapons carried low so as not to draw attention to what they were doing in the middle of the day but not so low that they could not be engaged were they to fall foul of a sudden ambush. The secrecy was unneeded however, the street was deserted – ominously so – the vampires were hiding in an obvious place but their distinct lack of neighbours suggested they were also well fed.

Dean tiptoed up the few steps to the main door and paused, listening for Sam's equally as gentle footsteps to catch up with him. Once his brother was beside him, Dean shifted slightly to flank one side of the door frame whilst Sam mirrored his action to take up the other side. Dean could feel his heart pounding with the typical thrill of the hunt that was starting to control his instincts. He was glad this, so far, was a straight forward case, glad to be able to leave demons and angels and devils and destinies behind for a few hours.

'On three,' he mouth as silently as he could to Sammy who nodded, his brown locks slipping over his eyes before he twitched his head slightly to move them out of the way. When that boy was going to get a haircut was beyond Dean – it was hardly practical for hunting.

Dean started to count.

'One…' he positioned his hand on the door knob. 'Two…' he twisted his hand slightly, pausing as he heard the lock click slightly as it gave way. 'Three!'

He pulled the door open without making a sound and the two of them quickly shuffled over the threshold, pausing in the entrance to check their surroundings.

X X X

Molly was bored already. Bored and frustrated that she had to wait behind in the car. She watched the two brothers moving meticulously up to the house and opening the door. If she was honest, it was pretty amazing the way they each knew where to move to without speaking – a real team. Sad that it had been ingrained into them since childhood perhaps but they made it look like at art form, like some kind of twisted, less elegant ballet.

She smiled to herself hoping that they wouldn't be too long. She couldn't put the radio on, it would draw to much attention to herself and she had a feeling that Sam had left his iPod in his bag in the trunk. They had specifically told her to stay put but surely popping to the back of the car to have a look didn't constitute as going anywhere.

Tapping her fingers against her knees she watched the house. It still showed no signs of movement and she wondered how long it would take the brothers to tiptoe through the house, beheading vampires. Honestly, they got to have all the fun!

Finally having had enough she opened the car door as slowly as possible trying hard not to let it creak. She chuckled to herself, it wasn't as though Sam and Dean were going to drop the hunt the second they heard the door creak to come and chastise her for not following orders. Climbing out and closing the door she walked quickly around the back to the trunk, taking care to look around her for any suspicious looking characters. The street was empty.

Looking down to the trunk she placed her hand on the latch, ready to lift it, hoping the device was in there and that Sam had some decent tunes on it.

That was when she felt the hand on her shoulder and she froze. Her back stiffened and her brain seemed incapable of giving her instruction. It felt as though she stood there for the longest time, knowing that someone was behind her waiting for her to turn around.

Finally, her heart in her throat, she managed to turn and face them. A pale face, long dank hair covering half of it, lips pulled back to expose rows upon rows of pointed teeth. As he stepped forward and a growl escaped his throat she realised with horror that Sam and Dean had been right.

She wasn't experienced enough to deal with this.

She should have stayed in the car.

X X X

Just as Sam stepped over the threshold to the living room, following Dean as he counted how many vampires were sleeping in the one room, he heard the high pitched scream from outside. Where everything had been silent and still as they made their way into the house, chaos suddenly broke loose like a stone being dropped into still waters. The ripples were huge and caused instant disruption.

The scream awoke the sleeping vamps and they had no choice but to spring into action. Twirling to his left, crossbow raised Sam pulled off two shots, both arrows hitting the vampire nearest to him in the chest. She squealed in agony from the dead man's blood, falling back onto the beanbag she had risen from. Dean, it seemed had been stepping over a sleeping vampire at the time and was in the process of trying to shake off the grip it had on his ankle whilst trying to hold back two vampires that were headed towards him.

Sam whisked his machete from its holster and with one swift movement removed the head of the vampire, its grip on Dean's leg gone almost instantly giving the older brother chance to shoot one of the vampires headed towards him. Seeing that his brother had it under control, Sam quickly returned to the female vampire and disposed of her accordingly, making sure to keep his mouth closed as a fine mist of blood rained across his face.

Pulling his sleeve across his face, he turned as Dean finished off the second of the two vampires that had attacked. Man, his brother worked at a pace that surprised even him sometimes. Dean turned and looked at Sam.

'That scream…' he began.

Sam felt his stomach drop as realisation hit. He had not given much consideration to the sound having been somewhat distracted by all the fangs headed towards them.

'Molly!' he gasped, instinctively heading for the door before Dean grabbed him by the arm.

'We don't know how many more are in here or how many are outside. Could be one could be ten for all we know.'

Sam pulled his arm free and glared at his brother.

'I don't care,' he practically growled at him. 'They've got her.'

Dean sighed and looked conflicted for a moment until they heard the side door of the house open and footsteps climbing through. From the corner of his eye, Sam spotted the vampires that were skulking down the stairs just as another appeared before them in the doorway he assumed led to the kitchen. The male vampire's arm was tight around Molly's throat as she struggled against him.

With a vampire in front of them and the vampires descending the stairs moving quicker it appeared they were at an impasse. Getting Molly free and fighting the others off at the same time was going to require some thinking.

'Let me guess,' the vampire said slowly looking from one brother to the other. 'Sam and Dean Winchester?'

Dean looked at Sam mouthing 'what the hell?' It seemed everyone knew who they were these days. Sam looked at the vampire again, watching as he adjusted his grip on Molly's struggling form, his teeth unpleasantly close to her throat. One quick nip and her artery would be open, gushing blood, dead within minutes.

'And this must be Molly,' the vampire grinned, scraping his teeth gently over her neck.

As Molly visibly shuddered, Sam felt the same sinking feeling in his stomach he had experienced a few minutes before.

'Heard someone pretty important is looking for this one,' the vampire sneered, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling loudly.

Molly tried hard to squirm still mentally scolding herself for getting out of the stupid car. Her inexperience had put them in this situation and as if it wasn't frightening enough having a set of vampire fangs dangerously close to her throat, it appeared to know who she was which sent chills through her. The vampire was deliberately dangling her in front of Sam, teasing her skin with his fangs, sniffing her hair. She locked eyes with Sam, seeing how he was quickly losing his resolve. It wouldn't be long before the vampire made some kind of demand and she just knew that Sam would obey.

Flicking her eyes to Dean she saw a different expression on his face, he was clearly working out a battle plan and although appearing surprised at the vampires knowledge, he seemed inexplicably calm. A subtle wink from him reassured her that he would take care of it, she just had to wait and brace herself for whatever was about to come. Three vampires had joined them from upstairs and had circled around the brothers. She hoped Dean knew what he doing; she couldn't fathom how they would get out of this one.

The vampire sneered mockingly as he brushed her hair from her shoulder, exposing the skin where it joined her neck. She could feel the hot, rancid breath billowing around her and she did her best not to throw up, instead choosing to focus on Sam, silently pleading with him to not do anything stupid.

'She smells so…edible,' the vampire laughed before tilting his head back.

'NO!' Sam's bellow filled the room as she felt the first sharp prickle on her skin.

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**A/N - *jumps up and down stupidly* I had fun writing that, I hope you had fun reading it! More will follow pretty soon, I've had too much coffee today, its 25 to midnight and I can't stop typing! Hope thats ok :)**


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N - My apologies that this chapter didn't get published last night as intended. I didn't stop typing until I looked up to find a maHOOsive spider was crawling across my duvet towards me looking as though it were going to eat me! I could have done with Sam and Dean right then! Luckily my brother was still awake (was quarter to one) to come and rescue me but after that I couldn't bear to stay in the room so had to sleep downstairs on my parents sofa lol. Such a girl. **

**Anyway hope the last chapter was enjoyed and that this will be too. I love Dean in this chapter (if its not too vain to say that given that I wrote it) he gets to kick some major ass hehe. **

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Sixteen.**

The next few events passed by in a matter of seconds. Sam dived towards her but disappeared from view as another vampire barrelled into him pinning him to the floor. Molly heard a whooshing sound and felt something brush past the side of her face so close it almost grazed her cheek. The iron grip on her throat was gone and she looked down briefly to see the vampire flat on his back an arrow straight through his forehead.

Looking across at Dean incredulously he grinned proudly for split second before turning to punch one of the two remaining vampires in the face. Sam, however, was not faring so well. The male vampire that had jumped him had managed to pin him face down onto the floor and appeared to have sunk his teeth into Sam's shoulder.

Molly felt panic wash over her. Dean was preoccupied with beating down on one vampire, the third was moving towards her and it was only a matter of time before her assailant regained consciousness. For now it seemed, Dean had shot the arrow in the perfect place to incapacitate him for the time being.

A muffled grunt from Sam prompted her brain into action. Spotting the machete he had dropped in the struggle, she grabbed it from the floor praying that she was strong enough to remove the vampires head. Gripping the handle tight she swung the blade as hard as she could. The vampire screeched and was catapulted from Sam's back by the force. The blade hadn't gone all the way through the creature's neck; instead it was embedded halfway through and looked very unpleasant. Unfortunately in her fear, she had gripped the handle so tight she couldn't let go. As the vampire fell he pulled her down with him, blood pouring all over the floor as his hands reached up attempting to remove the blade.

Molly gagged, still unable to let go, panic well and truly setting in. For the moment the vampire wasn't going anywhere but still wasn't finished with. She screamed as she felt a set of arms wrap around her and pull her away, her fingers finally relenting. Scrambling back as she landed on the floor on her bottom she looked up to see Dean - having made short work of the other vampires in the room - pull the blade from the vampires neck, finishing the job as he did so. Stepping over Sam who still lay on the ground Dean approached Molly's captor just as he sat up, coming around from the poison of the blood on the arrow. With a sweep of the blade so quick that the vampire had no idea what was happening, Dean took his head off and the room fell silent.

'Whoah,' Molly exclaimed as she heard the harsh gasps coming from her chest as she tried to catch her breath. 'Dean that was….' She was lost for words.

Dean turned and threw her his trademark smile, clearly making light of the horrible task he had just completed. He reached down and helped Sam, who appeared to be drifting out of consciousness, into a sitting position. Molly quickly overcame her awe of Dean and scrambled over to Sam, placing her hands on either side of his face to hold his head up.

'Sam…sam! Can you hear me?' she asked, desperately trying to get him to make eye contact with her.

Slowly but surely with what looked like a great effort he managed to lift his chin so that he was looking at her. He smiled weakly.

''snothin' jus' a scratch,' he said, groggily placing his hand on his shoulder, wincing at the contact.

Molly felt her eyes widen as he took his hand away and it became clear how much blood was seeping from the wound. She looked helplessly at Dean who shrugged, clearly used to seeing such wounds on his brother.

'He'll live, put some pressure on it while I go check the rest of the house. I want to make sure we got them all,' he said, casual as ever before heading up the stairs.

Molly turned her attention back to Sam looking around for something to press onto the wound before it occurred to her she could do it herself. When she was going to get the hang of this supernatural stuff she didn't know. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she opened them to find a large chunk of absorbent cotton in her hand. She promptly shoved it against the bite wound on Sam's shoulder and pressed down, ignoring him when he winced.

'Thanks,' he said as she continued to apply the pressure.

His non-bloody hand reached up to stroke her face affectionately. For a split second she almost leaned into the touch but quickly came to her senses, taking his hand from her face and placing it over the wound.

'Hold it tight,' she said before standing and moving into the kitchen to wash her hands, wondering if they were shaking from the adrenaline rush or for an entirely different reason.

X X X

Sam winced and grunted aloud as Bobby stabbed a sewing needle into his shoulder. The older man rolled his eyes and continued to sew up the wound. Normally, Sam would have done it himself but the wound was in an awkward position and it was easier for someone else to do it for him. Unfortunately Bobby, although skilled in patching up war wounds, was far from delicate. Sam grunted again.

'Quit yer whinin' boy,' Bobby snapped, jabbing the needle in again. 'I'm nearly done.'

The car ride home had been a bit of a blur. Sam figured he must have taken a knock to the head when the vampire jumped him, though he didn't remember doing so. He had a vague recollection of seeing an orange fiery glow around the house from his vantage point in the back seat of the Impala. Another thing he remembered was how quiet the drive back was. Molly sat in the front with Dean, taking Sam's usual position given that he was sprawled in the back, wounded and groggy. Dean had apparently attempted to start a conversation but Molly had not responded and the older Winchester had subsequently stopped trying.

Sam could hear them now though, talking in the kitchen. From his position in the downstairs bathroom with Bobby stitching him up he was unable to make out exactly what they were talking about but Molly sounded upset. He was desperate for Bobby to hurry up so he could go and talk to her but it was taking longer than he expected.

'That should do it,' Bobby muttered, pouring some liquor over the wound. Sam barely noticed, his shoulder actually felt better now it wasn't bleeding so much. He had started to become accustomed to the throbbing whilst his mind was on other, more important things.

'Thanks Bobby,' Sam said as the man pressed a large sticking dressing over the wound before dumping all the used items and bits of bloody gauze into the trash can.

Cracking the door open Sam caught the end of the conversation between Molly and Dean.

'It wasn't your fault, Molly; getting hurt on a hunt is part and parcel of the job y'know?' Dean was saying.

'He still chose to dive in front of that vampire – it was reckless,' Molly protested in response.

Sam moved closer to the kitchen door trying to avoid being seen by the two, knowing that if they became aware of his presence that he would no longer be privy to the topic of their conversation.

'Will you talk to Sam for me?' Molly was asking causing Sam to frown. What did she need Dean to say to him that she couldn't say herself?

There wasn't any time for Dean to answer as Bobby barged past Sam in his wheelchair muttering something about tall people being useless at loitering. With a sigh Sam followed the older man into the kitchen, moving instinctively towards Molly to stand beside her. He noticed the small step she took to create a distance between them but said nothing.

'I set you a bed up in the back room sweetheart,' Bobby said to Molly, reaffirming Sam's suspicion that Bobby had taken to her like a duck to water.

Molly smiled politely at the man but Sam could see she was unhappy. 'Thanks Bobby, you're a star.'

'You hungry? Want anything before you hit the sack?' Bobby asked wheeling over the refrigerator as if to explore what he might have that would be worth offering.

'Oh no thank you,' Molly said quickly. 'After what I've seen tonight I haven't got much of an appetite left.'

'You'll get used to it,' Sam chipped in, lightly.

He had hoped to get a response from her but she seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking at him. Sam knew things were strained between them but something was wrong. He knew her too well not to be suspicious though he doubted anyone else saw what he did.

Molly yawned loudly and stretched her arms to the sides hoping she was giving the illusion of needing to go to bed despite it still being relatively early. The sun had only just dipped below the horizon but the excuse of having escaped the clutches of a nest of vampires was surely reason enough to need an early night. She wasn't sure she could stay in the same room as Sam for much longer and see the look on his face. He wasn't stupid and she could tell that he knew something was amiss.

'I think I'll just head to bed now if you don't mind, I'm beat,' she said to Bobby with a smile, she felt like she had known him for a long time already, his fatherly nature comforted her somewhat.

'OK sweetheart,' he said, his southern drawl accompanied with a smile.

Molly leaned down and gave Bobby a brief hug which he return with an awkward pat on her shoulder and a clearing of his throat suggesting the affectionate gesture had taken him by surprise, perhaps even embarrassed him slightly. Then she turned to Dean and embraced him also.

'Thanks for saving my ass back there,' she whispered, squeezing him tightly thinking about much he had grown on her since they first met. 'I will forever be in awe of that cross bow shot.'

Dean's low laugh came close to her ear. 'No worries couldn't have you dying on us again now could I?' he mumbled back.

'You'll talk to Sam?' she whispered quickly hoping their hug didn't look as though it were going on unusually long.

'Why don't you sleep on it?' Dean said quietly, drawing back and releasing her.

Molly paused for a moment as though considering and then smiled and nodded in agreement trying not to feel saddened that she was lying to her first Winchester of the evening. Surprisingly Dean looked as though he believed her which made the guilt that little bit stronger. Finally she turned to Sam, placing her hand delicately on the top of his arm, just below where his wound was.

'How's it feel?' she asked softly, doing her best to focus on looking at his arm and not his eyes, knowing that if she did she would lose her resolve.

'I've had worse,' Sam shrugged.

She trailed her fingers down his arm to give his hand a gentle squeeze which he returned.

'I'll see you in the morning.' She said releasing his hand and walking out of the kitchen.

Perhaps it was a guilty conscience or simple paranoia but she could have sworn she felt three sets of curious eyes on her back as she walked down the hall to the spare room Bobby had mentioned. Entering the room she closed the door, her eyes falling on the small backpack of clothes the brothers had managed to procure for her since she never got a chance to go home after the diner incident where they first met. It seemed like a million years ago now.

Dean had informed her yesterday that he had found the bag stuffed in the back of the trunk underneath a box of hoodoo paraphernalia. He figured Sam had done it when they cleared out of their hotel room after she died. The information had made her heart skip a beat. It was as though Sam had always hoped she might come back. Funny how a tragic gesture such as that could turn out to be so practical. At least she could stop borrowing his shirts now. She still wore a hoodie Sam had loaned her earlier that day and it smelled of him which was making things so much more difficult.

Her eyes stung as she realised it was now or never. Pulling the hoodie over her head, ignoring the tears that fell on it as she stuffed it into the bag, she replaced it with her own sweatshirt and put her arms through the straps, tiptoeing to the window.

Telling herself once more that she was doing the right thing, that it would keep Sam safe, she wiped the moisture from her face and lifted the window.

X X X

'What were you and Molly talking about?'

Dean glanced up from where he leaned against the worktop, beer in his hand. He hoped he didn't look like a deer caught in headlights. He was pretty sure it didn't matter now that Molly was waiting until the morning. She was a good person and she would speak to Sam herself instead of leaving it to him.

'Oh nothing,' Dean said at last, with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'She was just a little wound up by the hunt.'

Sam eyed him in that way that suggested his answer wasn't enough.

'What?' Dean said, curtly before taking a gulp of his beer.

'I heard her asking you to talk to me and you're telling me it's nothing?' Sam asked, scepticism evident in his tone.

Dean sighed and pulled up a chair to sit at the table where Sam had positioned himself shortly after Molly had retired to bed. He put his bottle down on the table.

'She's thinks its her fault you got hurt, that you wouldn't have if she hadn't been there, she thinks she's a distraction,' Dean said paraphrasing as much as he could from all she had unloaded to him.

'Did she say what she was going to do?' Sam asked him, already half out of his seat as if he were anticipating the answer.

Dean shrugged 'She was considering leaving but she wasn't serious. I told her to sleep on it so that's what she's doing.'

The end of his sentence was spoken to no-one in particular. Sam was already out of the room and headed towards where Molly was sleeping. Dean listened to his younger brother's hurried footsteps as they faded away. Less than a minute later the sound of the footsteps returned, getting louder as Sam made his way back to the kitchen.

Dean looked up at his brother and knew what he was about to tell him before he even heard the words. The look of pure dejection said it all.

'She's gone,' Sam said.

Something in his tone suggested he blamed Dean.

X X X

Molly hopped down from the cab of the truck and thanked the driver before telling him to forget he'd ever met her. She hoped that would work, she'd never tried it before.

After climbing out of the window she had run as fast as she could down the beaten track away from Bobby's and onto the main road. Her heart was beating hard the whole time fearing that Sam would realise what she had done and take after her. She had flagged down the first vehicle she saw which thankfully hadn't taken that long to come trundling down the road. After climbing into the cab of the truck and placing a rather passionate -albeit falsely - kiss on the understandably surprised diver, she gave clear instructions as to where she wanted to go and that there was to be no attempts to grope her or make conversation with her the entire way.

So far all her instructions had been followed without complaint so she was hoping that her final request would also be followed. For once she was glad of her siren abilities despite how demeaning she found it having to kiss people to get her way.

The truck rumbled away as soon as she threw the door shut and turned to face her destination. She was hoping this was the last place Sam would expect her to go.

It was much darker now than when she first left but the house she needed was unmistakeable standing out in all its beauty among the beaten down houses that surrounded it. A rose among thorns.

Hoping she would be welcomed after her last visit here, she marched purposely to the door and rapped sharply on it three times. After a moment or two of waiting she heard shuffling from behind the door as a key was put into the lock and the door opened. The man's eyes widened in recognition.

'Uh…hi…Dad, I guess,' Molly said with a nervous smile.

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**A/N - Ok the next couple of chapters may not pop up so quickly as they require a bit more thinking as I'm going to have to borrow some season 5 events to move it along a bit without trying to lose my creativity. I hope Dean didn't seem stupid for not taking Molly's threats to leave seriously - my thinking is that he doesn't know her the way Sam does and that he doesn't know she and Sam discussed it before in the chapter where they sat on the porch. Hope that explains that bit. Thanks for reading and for the reviews, am glad people are still enjoying this. Have a great new year, will update soon as I can. **


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N -Ok, I know its been aaaages since I posted (again) just busy busy as usual. Plus I was trying to get the rest of the story finished before I posted the chapters because I was worried how it was going to go. Then had major writer's block style moment of self-doubt that the story was going downhill and when you do that you just have to walk away and leave it for a while. **

**Enjoy. Peace out ~ CSI Dork **

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**The unmistakable scents of bacon and coffee woke Molly more effectively than any alarm clock ever had. It took her a moment between opening her eyes and contemplating the source of the smells for her to remember where she was. The room she awoke in was basic - the only furniture was a bed, a wardrobe and a dresser and the walls were decorated just as simply in plain colours. What she wasn't expecting to find was Nigel standing at the foot of the bed, breakfast tray in hand. At least that solved the mystery of where the smells were coming from.

**Chapter Seventeen.**

As a child passed around from three different adoptive families, the mere thought of having one's father permanently available to even offer to cook breakfast was a fleeting and hopeless one. Now that she found herself in the situation, it felt surreal. She figured that was because she had yet to get to know the man, it was one thing to know that someone was your father and an entirely different thing to feel it. She wasn't sure she ever would or that she wanted to. Having a half-trickster for a father wasn't something she had ever though about either.

'How'd you sleep?' he asked at last, making her realise she had been staring at him for quite some time.

'Fine, thanks,' she lied knowing full well she had spent the night tossing and turning with visions of what she imagined Sam's face would look like when he discovered she was gone.

'Great, I made you breakfast,' Nigel said, chirpily. 'Well, I say made but you know us, it doesn't really take much effort huh?'

Molly smiled though she didn't feel the emotion. Nigel moved around to perch on the side of the bed and handed her the tray. The smells that wafted from the mountain of food there were immense - fresh and clear like she was smelling food for the first time.

'Wow, this smells amazing,' she commented, holding back on diving into it. She still felt a little uncomfortable about being there though it really was the only place she could go. 'Are you sure it's alright that I'm here?'

Nigel smiled slightly and nodded his head. 'Of course, after the last time when you left so suddenly I wasn't sure I was ever going to see you again. It might sound strange but I've always wondered about you, who you were, what you looked like, y'know? Then you came and went.'

'I'm sorry about that,' Molly said, genuinely surprised to find she meant it. He seemed like a decent person and could probably relate to everything she had felt growing up, knowing she wasn't completely human.

'Do you know how long you'll be staying?' he asked, hope clearly on his face.

'I don't know, it could be a while if that's OK?' she said, realising she really hadn't thought this through at all. Her only concern had been getting distance from Sam.

Sam. The name caused her stomach to tense and the guilt to flare up again as she thought of him. Nigel was apparently too ecstatic about her decision to visit to notice anything.

'Absolutely, you're more than welcome,' he said, with a gentle pat on her shoulder before he stood.

With that he left her to eat her breakfast but her appetite suddenly wasn't what it had been upon first waking. There hadn't been much chance to talk last night when she arrived and perhaps Nigel had suspected she wasn't in the mood. They had exchanged hello's and some small talk before he offered her the spare room and she had retired for the night.

She knew that there was no doubt that the Winchesters would have discovered by now that she had gone and it was inevitable that she would have to check her phone. She had half considered throwing it away given that it was originally one of the spares Dean kept stashed in the Impala but having no source of income to replace it she figured it would be stupid to get rid of it.

Leaning over to the nightstand, taking care not to drop the tray of breakfast, she picked up her phone and flipped it open. Three missed calls, two voicemails and a text message – presumably all from Sam. Not as bad as she expected but she knew she would have to check the messages sooner or later or the annoying icons would forever be on the phone display reminding her.

She picked up a piece of bacon and started to nibble on it as she selected the dial voicemail button and put it on speakerphone as if she were hoping that by not having it right by her ear, she wouldn't have to feel anything about it.

The first voicemail was short and contained a faint sound of what she assumed was Sam's breathing as he contemplated whether or not to say anything before the familiar click came followed by the dial tone. The next message was brief but she heard more than just what was said. His voice, though calm and quiet in an attempt to hide his emotion, held tones of disappointment and mild panic.

'_Molly, hey, it's me…obviously…where are you? I just want to know you're safe. Call me…' _

There were a few seconds of silence before the dial tone came in as though he were thinking of adding something but had hesitated. She knew what it was that he had refrained from saying because she would have been tempted to say it if she were in his shoes.

_I love you. _

Swallowing back the lump in her throat she disconnected from the voicemail and opened her inbox. To her surprise the text was not from Sam as she had thought but from Dean.

_Molly, you are a pain in the ass – Sam is so pissed at me!_

_I get it though._

_Stay safe; call me if you need anything. _

Molly couldn't help but smile – albeit sadly – at the message. There was a whole lot more to Dean Winchester than he ever let on. The bravado couldn't-give-a-crap attitude was only the surface. When it came down to it, Dean was just as dependable as Sam was.

She debated calling Dean but what if Sam picked up? Dean's text gave the impression that he wasn't going to push her to reveal her location that the ball was in her court. Easier for him to remain impartial she supposed.

Taking a deep breath she quickly sent a response to Dean's message hoping that it would be a more subtle way of letting him know she was ok. Also Sam may be less likely to notice or to demand who was contacting his brother.

Molly sighed and hoped the younger Winchester wasn't giving his brother too much of a hard time.

X X X

'Breakfast's up!' Dean announced, leaning by the door to Bobby's study.

Bobby was currently in the yard tinkering with the engine to some beat up piece of crap. There wasn't a lot he could do beneath a car but he seemed determined to do everything else that was within reach. Dean knew a lot of the determination the old man held was a cover for how he really felt. The sudden loss of his legs coupled with feeling useless in dire times such as an impending apocalypse had added a new edge of despondency to the man's eyes. Dean hated to see the people he cared about feeling such pain – not that he would ever tell them that – especially his surrogate father figure and his younger brother.

Sam was sitting at Bobby's desk with his laptop in front of him, the illumination from the screen giving his face a cyan aura. Dean sighed, knowing that Sam was giving him the silent treatment. He blamed him for the disappearing act Molly had pulled last night and in a sense, Dean almost blamed himself a little bit too. In the end though it had been Molly's decision, not that Dean would be able to make his stubborn kid brother see sense.

He stepped forward, tapping on the doorframe as if to re-announce his presence.

'Sammy, breakfast's ready,' Dean said again, surprised to find his brother pulling his attention away from the computer to look at him.

Look was a bit of a weak word – glare was perhaps more accurate.

'I'm not hungry,' he grunted, his eyes flicking back to the screen.

'Suit yourself grumpy,' Dean huffed back, unwilling to argue.

He turned to head back toward the kitchen when Sam spoke again. From the tone in his voice it was clear he was ready to start one of his epic rants. Dean rolled his eyes, mentally bracing himself and turned back to look at him.

'Can you really blame me, Dean?' Sam said. 'You let me down.'

'How is this my fault?' Dean shot back; trying to reign in the urge to point out that Sam had done far worse in the past to let _him _down.

'She told you she was going to leave and you let her!' Sam snapped, his voice rising slightly.

'Oh come on Sam!' Dean grunted in frustration. 'I tried to get her to sleep on it, I already told you that.'

'Yeah? Well you didn't try hard enough,' Sam shouted, getting up from his seat and rounding the table towards Dean.

'What else could I have done?' Dean protested, feeling the anger welling up inside him. 'Tied her to a chair so she couldn't go anywhere?'

'You should have told me Dean!' Sam bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air. 'I could have stopped her before she left, spoken to her.'

'Stop blaming me for your problems!' Dean shouted back. 'Molly's a grown woman; it was her choice to make. She _wanted_ to leave!'

Sam's fist crossed the space between them so quickly Dean didn't have a chance to register what he was doing never mind move out of the way. A dull ache spread across his cheekbone as Sam's knuckles connected firmly with it. Dean stumbled back slightly, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch where Sam had punched him.

'What in the devil's name is going on in here?' Bobby's gruff voice cut in before Dean had any time to move forward and return the favour by clocking Sam in return.

'Nothing Bobby,' Sam said.

'Sure didn't sound like nothing, could hear the pair of you hollerin' from outside.' Bobby said in his usual chastising tone.

'Just a misunderstanding Bobby,' Dean said, looking pointedly at Sam hoping he would get the message.

Sam continued to glare at Dean for a moment or two until the tension in his body seemed to disappear and he nodded in agreement. He exhaled as though some sort of cloud had just lifted and looked at Bobby.

'Yeah, just a misunderstanding, completely my fault.' He said before looking back at Dean. 'Sorry, man'

'Jesus Christ, someone get me a tissue,' Bobby said sarcastically before adding. 'Did someone say something about breakfast?'

Dean chuckled. 'Yeah, it's in the kitchen.'

Bobby grunted something that sounded suspiciously like 'hallelujah' as he turned his wheels and steered himself out of the room. Dean looked at Sam, unsure as to how sincere his apology had been. Sam ran a hand through his floppy locks and wandered back to his seat behind the desk. He rummaged in his pocket, pulling out his phone and looking at the display. Judging by the disappointment on his face, there were no messages.

Dean turned to leave again, figuring Sam really just needed some time alone. Sam could blame him all he wanted it wasn't going to make her come back any sooner.

'Hey Dean?' Sam's weary voice stopped him in his tracks and made him turn around again.

'Yeah, Sammy?'

'I know it's not your fault, OK? I can blame you all I want, its not going to make her come back any sooner.' Sam said, his eyes falling back to the phone in his hand.

Dean smiled to himself and shook his head. Sometimes he and his younger brother were more alike than he realised. He waved his hand dismissively and told Sam to forget about it before leaving him sitting at the desk, staring blankly at his laptop.

Bobby was in the kitchen devouring a plateful of the bacon and scrambled eggs that Dean had made. The older man nodded appreciatively at Dean as he entered the room and poured himself a cup of coffee.

'That brother of yours coming to eat something?' Bobby asked, his voice slightly muffled as he shovelled another forkful in.

Dean shrugged. 'I don't know, it's probably best to let him stew for a while. You know Sam - he'll get it out of his system eventually.'

Bobby nodded in understanding before reaching into the pan and forking out some more slices of bacon.

'More for me then,' he said with a wicked smirk before putting his plate on his lap and steering his chair towards the door. 'I'll see if I can talk sense into him.'

Dean nodded in agreement as Bobby wheeled himself out of the room and down the corridor to his study. He hated to see what Bobby had been reduced to, especially as he felt that was an instance where he really was to blame. If only he had realised sooner that Bobby was possessed. Perhaps then he may not have had to resort to the knife in his gut. Still, in this life, one could go crazy dwelling on the 'what ifs' and the 'could haves'.

A sudden sharp beeping noise distracted him from his moment of pained reflection. It came from the inside pocket of his jacket which he had slung over the back of one of the chairs last night. Placing his mug down on the table in front of him he leaned over and extracted his phone from the pocket to read the text he had received.

_Dean, sorry if I caused friction between you and Sam._

_I'm safe, I promise. _

_Stay out of trouble._

'Dean!' Castiel's voice took Dean by surprise, causing him to close his phone with a large snap.

Dean eyed the angel warily, hoping he wouldn't notice how he had caught him off guard – more so than usual anyway. A little shred of guilt rippled through him like he had just been caught looking at a dirty website on the internet.

'What?' Dean snapped, feeling the irritability in his tone.

'Sam is brooding,' Cass said, flatly.

Dean rolled his eyes 'So what else is new? Sam's always brooding, Cass, you know that.'

Cass did not look impressed.

'What is wrong with him this time?' the angel asked.

Dean sat down in a chair and rubbed his hand over his face wearily. After their conversation in the bar he figured Castiel would be none to happy when he found out that Sam and Molly were no longer together. At the end of the day Molly was trying to protect Sam, something that Dean could more than relate to.

'Molly left,' Dean said, not meeting the angel's eyes when he spoke.

'What? Why?' Castiel asked, just as Dean had expected he would.

'She wanted to go,' Dean said. 'To protect Sam.'

Castiel's eyes widened just as Dean had witnessed a handful of times when something serious enough to piss the celestial being off had happened. Dean closed his eyes, waiting for the lecture.

'Why didn't you stop her?' Castiel demanded. 'Sam and Molly must stay together, their union is important, I've already told you this, Dean.'

Dean stood and threw his hands in the air, sick of being blamed. 'She. Wanted. To. Go' he said deliberately pausing between each word to get his point across. 'And can you please stop talking about my brother's union or I'm going to end up in therapy!'

Castiel glared at Dean. 'I must speak with Molly, where is she?'

Dean shrugged. He didn't have a clue and even if he did he wouldn't tell Cass, as loyal an ally as he had proved himself time and again. Castiel slammed his hand down on the kitchen table in frustration. Before he had a chance to comment on the angel's display of anger, Sam trotted into the room, the expression on his face completely different to what it had been earlier.

'Dean!' he said, surprisingly enthusiastically before noticing the angel. 'Oh hey Cass.'

'Samuel,' Castiel said darkly inciting a puzzled look from the youngest Winchester.

'What's up Sammy?' Dean cut in before any sort of heated debate could ensue as to Molly's whereabouts.

'Aside from him full naming me?' Sam retorted shooting Castiel another wary look before clearing his throat. 'Uh, anyway, I think there's a case we need to look into. A young couple reportedly ate each other to death!'

Dean looked at his brother, noticing the familiar hiding-my-feelings-behind-research expression and couldn't help but smile. Molly was far from either of their minds but she was safe – as far as he knew – and they still had the supernatural to deal with. If the hunger for the hunt was enough to distract Sam from worrying then Dean was more than happy for that to happen.

'Sounds kinky,' Dean remarked waggling his eyebrows.

Sam did his trademark eye roll at Dean's perversion before nodding in acknowledgement to Castiel and exiting the room, no doubt to return to the study for more research.

Castiel looked blankly at Dean.

'I'm very disappointed in you,' he said bluntly before disappearing into thin air again.

Dean sighed and slumped back into his chair, looking disapprovingly at the coffee in the mug before him. Since when had it become his responsibility to monitor his brother's love life? He picked the mug up and swirled the brown, uninviting liquid around.

'I'm going to need something stronger than this,' he muttered to himself.

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**Hope you liked this, bit of a filler. I really like Dean in this chapter Sam being his usual self really but he's always a stress head when things aren't going well. Good job he's cute really!**


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N - ok so these next few chapters are the ones I had the most problems with, trying to pass some time without rushing it too much and without it being too boring so go easy on me. Thank you for still reading, as always. **

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**Chapter Eighteen.**

Molly sighed and threw the book she had been reading across the living room. Nigel had a whole room full of books and in an attempt to pass the time she had picked one at random and started to read it. The problem was reading the book had also been intended to serve as a distraction from any thoughts of Sam. Turned out the main character was called Samuel and after five pages of desperately trying to ignore the nagging coincidence of her book choice she had given up and subsequently launched it at the wall.

'Everything alright?' Nigel asked, appearing in the doorway.

Molly looked at him, sighed and then directed her gaze out of the window beside her. The beaten up street was currently the home to a street hockey game between what she assumed was the local kids. A smile twitched at her face as she wondered whether Sam had ever played the game as a kid. The smile fell quickly when her common sense reminded her that Sam had probably spent more of his childhood wielding a shot gun than a hockey stick.

'Look,' Nigel said firmly, taking a seat in the space beside her. 'I know you don't really know me, I'm under no illusions that we're suddenly going to fall into the roles of father and daughter but the way I see it, you need to talk. If you don't whatever is on your mind is going to drive you mad. As your luck would have it, I'm the only person here.'

She looked at him, a little surprised by his speech but also touched that he was fighting to gain her trust. Swallowing hard and blinking against the heat that stung at her eyes suddenly, she contemplated what to say.

'Is it that guy?' he asked, bluntly. 'What was his name…Sam?'

Molly exhaled a sharp laugh, taken aback by his intuition. 'That obvious huh?'

Nigel shrugged and smiled. 'I think you're forgetting I'm half human, was raised as a human.'

'Yeah,' Molly nodded. 'You're not a complete freak like me.'

'You are not a freak,' he said, squeezing her hand briefly before taking it away suddenly, perhaps realising they weren't quite close enough for that yet.

Molly tucked her hands closer to herself, feeling the awkwardness of the situation. She wasn't sure she could open up to him. He was her father, biologically, but she didn't know if she could tell him how she was feeling. She could give him the facts about the situation but to explain how much it was really bothering her was something else entirely. It was so personal.

'I know what it's like to be young and in love,' he said, suddenly causing her to look up. 'Well, I thought I was but given your mother's abilities and distinct lack of humanity, I doubt that I was.'

Molly nodded awkwardly. She was, after all the by-product of the falsity he was describing.

'Don't get me wrong,' he said, apparently realising his words could have been taken the wrong way.

Molly shook her head dismissively, indicating for him to continue. He was being honest which she knew took a lot of courage and she didn't want to deter him.

'What I mean is, I loved and lost. Whether what I felt was ever real I will never know but it was real to me and I don't regret for a second that you came out of that situation. I just regret that I never had the chance to be there for you,' Nigel said, his eyes flicking between looking at her and looking out of the window.

Towards the end of his speech, his voice had gone quieter and there was a slight emotion in his tone that gave Molly no doubt that he was being sincere. She swallowed hard before she lost her nerve and began to tell him everything. Once she started, the words came spilling out much easier than she had expected. What had happened after she last visited…how she had died and then been resurrected though she still didn't know why…how the feelings between Sam and she had been strong from the instant they met…why she had left.

By the time she had gone through everything, tears were streaming down her face and she didn't seem to be able to stop them. She had held in as much as she could with everything that had happened to her recently but now it had all come out there seemed to be no stopping her. In the past she had always been the tough chick, the one who bit her lip until she was alone, but now it seemed she was too broken to maintain her composure any longer.

Nigel simply slipped his arm around her shoulder and tried to comfort her in the best way any absent long last father could.

X X X

The next few days seemed to pass by in a blur. Molly spent the best part of the first couple of days wandering around Nigel's house trying to find something to occupy her mind. His house, though small on the outside seemed to contain more rooms than one might imagine and she wondered how much of it was real and how much was his creation. After exploring the library and investigating the books he had, she had experimented with some of the equipment in the unnecessarily hi-tech kitchen and managed to cook a couple of meals in the traditional manner for once.

In the meantime, she had found a missed call from Sam each night but he never left a voicemail perhaps unable to find the words. She didn't keep her phone close by, afraid of how tempted she might be to answer, to give in and go home. Home…it was a strange way to describe it given that they never stayed in one place.

Along with the empty voicemails, she would find a text from Dean, always late at night or maybe it was early in the morning. She figured it was whenever he was about to grab a random hour or two of sleep. The messages were always short usually containing some random wisecrack about the day he'd had and enquiring as to her well being. He never mentioned Sam which she assumed was a deliberate choice.

A week passed by when she realised that the usual routine of missed call-message had stopped. Unable to believe she hadn't noticed sooner she had checked her messages to make sure she hadn't opened them in her sleep or something.

There had been no contact for three days.

That was when she had discovered the gym in the basement and started on the punch bag. Problem was, one angry punch without a glove didn't do much for the ligaments in her hand. Nigel appeared beside her almost immediately after she had screamed in pain, causing her to scream again in surprise.

'Did the punch bag do something to piss you off?' Nigel asked sarcastically.

'How did you do that?' Molly asked the pain in her hand forgotten for the moment.

'I asked first,' Nigel shot back.

Molly looked at the bag and then down at her hand. She laughed bitterly at her own stupidity and shook her hand attempting to reduce the throbbing. All it served to do was aggravate it and she cursed out in pain. Nigel took her hand and looked at it, turning it over slowly.

'Move your fingers,' he instructed.

Molly obeyed, still somewhat bewildered as to how he had come to her aid without any effort.

'Not broken,' he said with finality. 'You're lucky, you probably just sprained it.'

'So you're a doctor now?' Molly said with a little more ridicule than she had intended.

Nigel dropped her hand and shrugged before clicking his fingers and handing her a set of boxing gloves.

'For the next time you feel like taking your anger out on something,' he said with a patient smile.

'Thanks,' Molly took the gloves from him, feeling a little stupid. 'How do you do that?'

Nigel furrowed an eyebrow. 'Do what?'

'Just pull things out of thin air,' she said with a shrug.

He laughed. 'Do you suddenly have amnesia or something? Trickster, remember, last I checked you could do the same.'

Molly shook her head and smiled, realising she hadn't worded her question very well. 'No, I mean, when I do that I really have to think about it. You…you just click your fingers and it's there.'

'Years of practice,' Nigel said, simply before pointing to the gloves in her hand. 'Have fun with those, try not to break anything.'

With that he turned to leave the room the conventional way. Molly looked down at the gloves for a second before looking in Nigel's direction again.

'Wait,' she said quickly.

Nigel turned from his position on the bottom step of the staircase that led out of the basement.

'What?'

'Can you teach me?' she asked, feeling a little more enthusiastic than she had before about using her powers.

Nigel smiled.

X X X

Dean looked up at the night sky, his heart pounding and an all too familiar feeling of despair wracking his body. He had listened to Sam's cries from the effects of the withdrawal for too long and now after looking up to the sky praying for help from a God he barely believed in, he didn't feel much better.

Why Sam? Why did his kid brother have to go through so much? Why did either of them? Dean knew his own destiny wasn't particularly something to look forward to but Sam seemed to always bear the brunt of this crazy web of demonic planning, it was little wonder he was so uptight half the time. When Dean took the time to think about it, he knew Sam had lost so much – Mom, Jess, Dad, Dean himself, his self control when it came to demon blood and his faith that things would work out. Sometimes Dean missed the person Sam used to be when he was younger – the optimism he had as a young child that things would be alright, his confidence as a young adult that he could walk away from the life and live normally. Looking back now, Dean realised that he had been wrong to ever criticise Sam for going to college. Then again, even if he had not gone back to fetch Sam from Stanford, things would probably still have turned out like this. That was the point of the stupid plan.

Now Sam was down in Bobby's panic room hallucinating, calling for help, for anyone who could take away the pain. Dean, Cass, Bobby, Molly…

Molly!

Dean had not checked in on her for a few days. A little bubble of trepidation rose up in him. As a way of trying to make up for the fact he had been partly responsible for her walking away from Sam, he had made a point of sending her a message every night before he hit the sack. Her responses were always very brief but at least he knew she was alive and kicking, not that he would pass that on to Sam but at least he had that information if her absence ever got too much for his brother. Right now, though, the youngest Winchester was extremely pre-occupied.

Dean set the bottle of whisky in his hand down on the hood of an old Camaro and rummaged around in his jean pocket for his phone.

X X X

Molly threw herself back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was more exhausted than she expected to be. Nigel had spent the rest of the day teaching her to try and conjure objects without thinking about it and it had been mentally draining. Even with the knowledge that her powers were significantly stronger since she had been resurrected she was still struggling to get the hang of it. A web search on the mythology about resurrection suggested some cultures believed those who were resurrected came back with exaggerated strengths but she hadn't felt that today.

Her head ached and she was frustrated. Her whole life her abilities had pretty much done their own thing and now she was trying to take more control it was as though it was even harder than it was before. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, attempting to squeeze away the ache behind them, a tear sliding from the corner of one and trickling into her ear. Swiping it away she mentally scolded herself for being so weak, it was not worth crying over.

The buzz of her phone on the night stand beside her spurred her out of her stupor. She sat up immediately, reaching over and snatching the device up. Flipping it open she felt a wave of relief wash over her as she spotted Dean's name on the screen. She hit the 'view' button and read.

_Hey Molly, just checking in._

_How are you? _

It was a straight forward message, lacking Dean's usual sarcasm. There was no explanation as to where they had been the last few days. Then again was she to assume that he would be in touch every day? His last messages had given her that impression; they always had the hidden suggestion that he was simply checking her wellbeing even if he never said it. This message was more to the point.

Selecting the reply option she typed her response quickly.

_Dean, where've you been?_

_I'm fine, you?_

Hitting send she put the phone down on the bed in front of her, staring expectantly at the small silver square waiting impatiently for it to light up letting her know she had another message. Less than two minutes later, though it felt longer, it did just that.

_Working a case,_

_I've been better. _

Molly was surprised and concerned by his honesty. Dean must have been in a bad place to admit that he wasn't feeling particularly great. She couldn't imagine what would break the older Winchester's tough exterior in such a way. She text back.

_Is it safe to talk?_

She hoped he got the meaning behind her message. As selfish as she felt, she knew there was no way she could talk to Sam. Not without going back on her decision. As if to answer her question, the phone rang, Dean's name flashing up. It was barely through the second ring when she hit the answer button.

'What's wrong?' she asked, getting straight to the point.

Dean sighed on the other end of the line before he spoke. 'Tough case I guess.'

'Tough case?' Molly repeated her scepticism evident in her tone. Dean sounded off, his voice was hoarse as though he had been - or was trying not to start – crying.

'It happens,' he said.

'Dean…' Molly stopped, unsure of what to say next. He was beating around the bush, being vague, as though now talking to someone was causing him to put his usual front back up.

'Where are you?' Dean asked her suddenly. She wasn't sure whether he really wanted to know or if he were simply changing the subject.

'You know I can't tell you, you'll just come and get me,' she said bluntly.

Dean actually chuckled slightly. 'I won't I promise. I guess it makes no difference where you are, you're away from all this which is the best thing for you.'

'Oh,' Molly said, relieved but still confused by his dodging of real facts. 'So, what's been going on?'

'Are you asking how Sam is?' Dean asked, a light air of teasing in his tone.

Molly hesitated, she wanted to know but at the same time she didn't. If he was fine, great, but if he was hurt, in danger or…dead, she didn't know if she could handle it.

'He's not bad,' Dean said, perhaps sensing her reluctance. 'As well as can be expected when you've got the devil on your ass.'

'Where is he?' Molly asked, noticing how quiet it seemed in the background.

'Uh…in rehab…sort of,' Dean said, a mirthless chuckle followed.

Molly gasped. 'Demon blood? Is that what I've driven him to?'

Dean laughed, again with little humour behind it. 'No Molly, it doesn't work like that. He doesn't go out and get a hit because his life's gone down the toilet. It happened while we were on the case, he got forced into it, it's a long story.'

'Is he going to be alright?' Molly asked, feeling a little relief that it wasn't her fault he had fallen off the wagon.

'Eventually,' Dean replied. 'It'll take a couple of days. You want me to give him a message?'

Molly smiled though she knew Dean couldn't see it.

'No, thank you. I doubt he even knows we've been in touch, am I right?'

Dean laughed. 'Right.'

There was a pause as they both struggled to think of what to say next.

'You really did do the right thing you know,' Dean said at last.

'Are you that glad to be rid of me?' Molly responded sarcastically.

'Hell no, I've got to put up with Sam being extra pouty all the time,' Dean shot back. 'What I meant was, before we met you we were trying to find a way to get out of this entire Lucifer/Michael vessel thing and it was tough. I guess while we were dealing with you I forgot how dangerous everything we're doing really is and that we can't just leave it behind.'

'I don't follow,' Molly said. 'Hasn't it always been dangerous?'

'Yeah,' Dean sighed. 'But, I don't know, with you around, Sam was happy again for a little bit. Kind of made me forget the crap he has to deal with, you know?'

'Is that a compliment?' Molly asked, smiling despite how sad his speech seemed.

'I guess it is,' Dean said. 'Look, I should get back to Sam, see how he's doing. Keep in touch, alright?'

Molly stayed quiet, thinking for a while. She still wasn't much clearer on what the problem was but she was seeing a new side to Dean. He had said that he wasn't doing so well yet the whole conversation had been about Sam. She knew he was protective of his brother but she guessed she had never realised just how dedicated to that cause Dean was.

'What about you?' she asked, quickly fearing he was about to hang up.

'Meaning?' Dean sounded puzzled.

'Meaning, it's your crap too. Sam may have a lot to deal with but you do too. Don't try and hide behind Sam's part in this.' She said, desperately hoping she wouldn't hear the dial tone any second now. 'So what about you?'

Dean sighed loudly again and didn't respond for what felt like quiet some time.

'I don't know, Molly,' he said at last, his voice clearly breaking and thick with tears. 'There's a lot to do, I don't know if we can do it and…'

'Dean…' Molly interrupted, trying to think of something to say to comfort him but he continued with what he was saying.

'…and it's only going to get worse.'


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N - this chapter does have a fair bit of time jumping in it, hope thats not too annoying. I needed to try and weave in references to season 5 episodes without writing out the events so to speak, to try and keep it as original as possible. Hope you like this. Hopefully if you've made it this far, there's no going back LOL**

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**Chapter Nineteen**

Following her phone call with Dean, although pleased to hear his voice and know that, considering the circumstances both he and Sam were alright, Molly threw herself into trying to develop her powers. Dean had sounded so despondent towards the end of their conversation, something she had never heard from him in the time that she had known him. It was clear that it took a lot for him to reach that point and she suspected that ordinarily he would deal with that emotion privately though she was glad he had trusted her enough to be frank with her.

Over the next few weeks, she followed Nigel's instruction conjuring up more complex versions of things she had created in the past as well as starting to develop bigger illusions. When Nigel first're-decorated' her bedroom, she couldn't believe her eyes. The simplicity was gone, replaced with ornate furniture and intricate vintage wallpaper. As she had reached out to touch the pattern on the walls, it changed again to look like a page from an IKEA catalogue. Nigel had explained that, with practise, she could create and change something as many times as she wanted, that it didn't just have to be concrete objects that she created.

Molly had to admit that her lessons were a welcome distraction. Sam and Dean were always in the back of her mind; Dean had stayed in touch as before with a brief text message, checking in. The occasional wry humour had returned since they spoke though she wasn't convinced how genuine it was. It seemed that Dean had been right and things were getting worse in their fight against Lucifer although he rarely went into any detail about what they had been doing. She had been thoroughly confused when Dean had told her _'Bobby's wife makes great pie'_. She didn't know Bobby had a wife but when she questioned him, he never answered.

The number of days between messages varied and when there was a space of more than four days she knew they were dealing with something particularly difficult. In those cases, when she wasn't working with Nigel, she went back to the punch bag in the basement gym. Molly supposed she was trying to prepare herself for anything. If she couldn't use her hybrid powers for protection then at least she could be certain she could throw a punch when necessary.

Over a month into the routine of living with Nigel and occasionally hearing from Dean, after a particularly unsuccessful and frustrating day of trying to create an illusion that lasted longer than a split second she finally broke.

'I've had enough!' she snapped at Nigel as her head started to pound again from the effort.

'You can't give up now, Molly, you're doing so well,' Nigel tried to reassure her, looking a little taken aback by her outburst.

'I didn't say I was giving up,' she practically growled. 'I said I'd had enough!'

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her and broke into a run heading straight for the basement. Grabbing her iPod from where she left it for occasions such as these, she rammed the headphones into her ears, cranking up the volume. Sliding on the gloves Nigel had given her she started throwing angry punches as hard as she could as the first beats of Kings Of Leon's 'Taper Jean Girl' began.

Each punch she threw was retaliation for something. One for the frustration she felt now, one for the time her siren abilities had killed three people, one for having to put Sam through the pain of losing her…twice. Her punches developed into kicks. Each strike of her roundhouse for every pain that she felt – being away from Sam, hearing Dean fighting back his emotion, knowing they must be going through hell.

Worried because she hadn't heard from Dean in over a week.

Hurt because Sam hadn't left an empty voicemail in three weeks.

Not that she could blame him - she had left him after all. She threw another punch into the bag, the muscles in her arms burning. What if Lucifer had caught up with them and Sam had said yes? She kicked the bag as hard as she could, a pain shooting up her thigh. She was no fighter, had no knowledge of how to kick or punch correctly, every inaccurate move strained a different muscle.

As she began to tire and the song came to an end, the shuffle mode on her media player switching the song to 'Cold Desert', the tears started to fall. Maybe they were dead. She punched the bag with less power this time, wobbling on the leg she had now injured. Pain shot through her leg again as she rested too much weight on it causing her to angrily punch again.

Maybe Sam had given up. She threw one last feeble punch before dropping to her knees. Wrapping her arms around the swinging punch bag to steady it, she pressed her forehead against the leather and wept.

X X X

Dean stood staring at the door to the panic room. Sam hadn't even had the heart to slam it behind him after their conversation. Dean had effectively told him he was weak and he had no faith in him not to say yes to Lucifer. He was right; Sam had slipped before with Ruby and look how that had turned out. What he perhaps shouldn't have added was that Molly must have had no faith in him either, otherwise she wouldn't have left.

Dean wasn't sure why he said that. His head was a mess these days. His only option right now seemed to be to say yes to Michael and do what he could to stop Lucifer. It was all about protecting Sam…and young Adam. He couldn't let either of his brother's be taken over. That was his role as the oldest of the family.

Right now, being locked in the panic room, he was hardly able to do much.

He had to get out of here…

Sam wanted to run. Just open the door and start running until his legs grew tired and his breath grew ragged. He couldn't, he knew that, but being able to clear his mind would be helpful. On the one hand he had Dean to contend with, he couldn't believe after everything they had been through that he wanted to say yes. They had come so far in avoiding both Lucifer and Michael that he couldn't believe Dean was ready to give in. Dean had no faith in him and he believed that Molly didn't either.

Molly. He hadn't spoken to her since the night she left. He had tried calling several times but she never answered and he doubted she ever would. Going through that little instance of feeling hopeful as the phone began to ring on the other end, only to hear her voice instructing him to leave a message had taken its toll along with everything else that had been happening. That was when he had stopped calling. He missed her but she had made her decision, there wasn't anything he could do. He just hoped he could see her again before things got worse. Even if just to talk to her, tell her how he felt, not to force her to come back.

He stopped at the top of the basement stairs, took his phone from his pocket and looked at it. Did he try again or leave it until there wasn't so much drama going on.

'To hell with it,' he muttered to himself, opening up his message box and sending her a text.

She probably wouldn't reply but at least she would know he was thinking of her, wherever she was.

X X X

The feeling of something vibrating against her pocket pulled her back to reality. Molly leaned back to sit on her bottom on the floor, wincing at the pulled muscle in her leg. Pulling off the boxing gloves as fast as she could, her hands trembling as she did so, both with the exertion of her anger and the anticipation of what she would find on her phone.

Wiping the sweat and tears from her face, blinking as salt stung her eyes, she dug into her pocket for her phone. She pulled it out, her shaky hand causing her to drop it on the floor. All she needed was to hear from Dean. To know they were both alive and well.

She lifted the phone from the floor and flipped it open. Her heart pounded as she saw the name of the sender.

Sam.

Quickly pressing the button to open the message, she took a deep breath as it loaded, fighting back the tears of relief.

_Molly, where are you? _

_I need to know you're OK. _

_I miss you._

Molly read the message three more times whilst she decided what to do. She was relieved to know that he was still alive to send her the message, to hear that he was thinking of her, to put aside her irrational fears that he had given up on her.

'Don't keep the poor boy hanging,'

Nigel's voice startled her. She turned her head to see him sitting beside her, smiling gently. She scowled slightly at the interruption but couldn't help but smile a little. No matter how many times she lost her temper during her lessons or disappeared down to take her frustrations out on the punch bag, he was patient with her, giving her the space she needed and the advice she thought she didn't. Kind of like a real father.

'What do I say? Sorry I left you and broke your heart then didn't speak to you for six weeks?' she said sardonically.

Nigel laughed. 'I get the feeling you wouldn't have to apologise to him for anything. Sorry for reading over your shoulder but he needs to know you're alright. At least put him out of his misery a little bit.'

Molly nodded, considering. Sending a message back wouldn't hurt. It wasn't as though he would be able to come get her and make her come back. She got the impression he and Dean were far too busy anyway. Typing as quickly as she could with her hands trembling the way they were, she sent her reply.

_I miss you too. _

_I'm sorry. I love you._

X X X

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel of the Impala and tried to focus his thoughts on the road ahead of him. It had been two days since the showdown with Zachariah and he couldn't stop the guilt he felt that Adam and Cass were gone – dead or worse. Sam's usually dark mood had lifted probably because Dean hadn't said yes to Michael after all although it had been touch and go for a while. Dean suspected that there may also be something else behind Sam's slightly more positive attitude.

Dean glanced to his brother sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He was looking at his phone again, which he seemed to be doing quite regularly.

'You thinking about calling Molly?' Dean asked.

'Nah,' Sam said, a little too dismissively.

'Seriously?' Dean said. 'That isn't the reason you need surgically removing from your cellphone?'

Sam looked at Dean and smiled. 'She's ok, she got in touch.'

'Really?' Dean hoped he sounded surprised enough whilst realising at the same time that he hadn't checked in with her in a while. 'What did she say?'

'Not a lot, but it's better than nothing, huh?' Sam said, slipping his phone back in his pocket and clearing his throat.

Dean presumed whatever she said may have been too personal for Sam to share. Flicking the wipers on as the heavens suddenly opened and rain poured down, Dean hoped that Molly wasn't thinking of coming back. They had lost enough people already.

'What's with this weather?' Sam said, leaning forward and peering out of the windscreen at the rain that had significantly reduced their visibility in a very short space of time.

'I don't know,' Dean said. 'Global warming? Shout if you see a motel and we'll pull in.'

'Maybe we should just keep driving,' Sam said. 'It'll pass.'

'Yeah right,' Dean said bitterly. 'And you can be the one to pull the Impala out if I drive into a ditch. I can't see a thing in this. We're pulling over the next chance we get.'

Normally Sam would argue a little more with his brother but he was feeling a renewed sense of hope. He hadn't read Molly's message immediately, he had been to busy dealing with Dean and Adam and the whole Zachariah debacle. He was still concerned as to the whereabouts of Castiel and doubted whether Adam was still alive. It saddened him, he couldn't deny that but Molly's response had given him the boost he needed. He didn't doubt how she felt about him but it was still good to hear it although he had no intention of telling Dean what she had said. He would just make some sarcastic comment, Dean didn't do romantic. Plus he had surprised him by even mentioning Molly in the first place. He hadn't asked before, Sam had figured he was glad there was one less distraction to deal with.

He looked at Dean squinting to see through the pouring rain before them. It was weird just how little Dean had spoken about Molly. He may have been shut off from what he classed as sappy feelings but Sam thought the three of them had been together long enough for Dean to care a little as to her whereabouts.

'What, Sam?' Dean asked not removing his eyes from the road in front of the car.

'Is there something you're not telling me, Dean?' Sam asked.

'Huh?' Dean shot him a look that changed Sam's mind. Maybe he was wrong. 'Oh hey look, there's a motel just up there.'

Dean pointed ahead of them, slowing the car down. Sam shrugged and looked at the rain. It was coming down heavier than he had seen in a long time…in fact, ever.

X X X

'Happy Birthday!'

Molly woke with a start. She had been dreaming about Sam again, apparently her brain had felt the need to relieve skewed versions of all their memories since he had sent her the message last week. This particular dream had been a warped version of the vampire fight before she left. Sam's bite had transformed him into a vampire and he had sat feeding on the blood of extremely cute Labrador puppies. Twisted and disturbing, by the time the fog of waking cleared, she was glad the dream had been interrupted even if it was Nigel reminding her she was another year older.

Blinking away the last images of the dream she sat up and smiled wearily at him. Her room was extravagantly decorated with banners, balloons and other bizarre decorations that only someone with his ability could muster. With so much on her mind she had actually forgotten about it herself, she had never particularly celebrated her birthdays that much having had no real family to celebrate with. A little pang of longing struck her as she thought how good it would have been to spend it with Sam.

'I can't believe you remembered,' she said, rubbing her eyes and stretching slightly. In the first few days she had spent at his house, he had asked her questions endlessly about the smallest details including when her birthday was.

'Well, I figured I should try and make up for missing the first twenty six,' he said, handing her a small package wrapped in birthday paper.

Molly laughed. 'I think I can manage to forgive you for that,' she said, taking the package from him. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome,' Nigel said. 'Now, I need you to make a decision.'

'About what?' Molly asked, puzzled.

'Chocolate…' he clicked his fingers and a large brown birthday cake appeared before her. '…or sponge?' clicking his fingers again he produce a second birthday cake.

Molly smiled and shook her head.

'Actually, if you don't mind. I'd quite like to make my own,' she clicked her own fingers and a cake stand filled with cupcakes of various sizes and colours instantly appeared on her nightstand.

Nigel returned her smile. 'You're getting good at that.'

'Had a good teacher.' Molly said before clicking her fingers and making all three cake options disappear.

'Show off,' Nigel said, sitting to perch on the end of the bed. He gestured towards the small parcel still in her other hand. 'Are you going to open that?'

She looked down at the parcel with excitement. It wasn't wrapped particularly neatly suggesting he had actually wrapped it himself instead of cheating and using his powers. She smiled to herself before ripping the paper off to find a small black box. Lifting the lid of the box her eyes welled up as they fell on the necklace inside. A simple silver chain with a Celtic knot dangling from it. She reached into the box and carefully lifted the chain out.

'It was your grandmother's,' Nigel said quietly.

Molly looked up, her eyes full. Nigel looked nervous, as one giving such a gift might feel when trying to gauge whether the recipient liked it or not.

'She was the human part of me,' he continued to say. 'And I know how you feel about the human part of you so I thought wearing that might remind you its still there. As well as the fact you are a lot like her.'

Molly surprised herself by launching forward and giving him a hug. He hesitated for a minute then patted her awkwardly on the back before returning the hug fully.

'It's perfect, thank you,' Molly said as she pulled away.

Nigel cleared his throat, appearing embarrassed.

'You're very welcome,' he said.

'And thank you, you know for everything,' Molly said, knowing if she didn't say it now she never would. 'I'm really glad I came to you and that I had the chance to get to know you. I'm sorry you didn't get to see my first twenty six birthdays too.'

Nigel smiled and looked at her. He appeared to be holding back some sort of emotion.

'I'm glad you came you too.' He said before standing up. 'I'll be down in the kitchen making breakfast and checking you didn't annihilate those cakes when you moved them.'

Molly pretended to look offended before he vanished from the room, presumably to the kitchen. He had promised that moving from room to room was the next lesson on his list though he doubted how well it would work for her, that she may be able to swap her place within a room. Then again she had surprised even herself with some of the new things she had picked up. Her hybrid status apparently was not limiting her abilities, she just had to learn how to manipulate them and she had picked up a lot in the last seven weeks.

Jumping up from the bed, necklace in hand, she trotted over to the dressing table to use the mirror as she put it on. It seemed to fit perfectly, as though it had always belonged to her and she wondered what her paternal grandmother had been like. Her phone buzzed against the wood of the dressing table where she had left it the night before. She opened it and read the message from Dean.

_Happy Birthday! _

_How are you?_

She smiled wondering for a moment how Dean had known. Then it occurred to her that Dean and Castiel had been back in time to the night she was born back when they were still trying to figure out what she was. Still, it was impressive that Dean had remembered. Still feeling the unfamiliar excitement of having an almost normal family birthday she responded to his message.

_Thank you!_

_I'm OK; my father gave me the nicest gift. _

_How are you and Sam?_

Feeling slightly happier than she had in a while she removed the necklace and trotted into the bathroom to take a shower. She could probably have attempted to get washed and dressed with a click of her fingers but sometimes it was nice to do things at a more human pace.

After showering and getting dressed she bounded down the stairs to the kitchen and scarfed down the breakfast Nigel had made.

'I'm going to head into town for a little while,' she announced gulping down the last of her morning coffee.

'Good,' Nigel said. 'I can get this place ready for when you get back.'

Molly frowned. 'What are you plotting?'

Nigel sipped his coffee innocently. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

Molly smiled and got up to put her things in the sink.

'I won't be long; I just have this tradition of getting myself a gift every birthday. It's kind of become a force of habit.'

Nigel shrugged. 'Take your time, I'll still be here when you get back and we can celebrate.'

'Cool.'

With that she grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter, threw on a jacket and left. It would be good to get out. She had spent a lot of time inside apart from the handful of times Nigel had forced her to go out. It wasn't a long walk into town but she took her time, taking in the warm weather and calmness that seemed to be around today.

X X X

Molly glanced at her watch as she balanced her bags in the other hand. She was surprised to find she had been out for the best part of three hours. She had spent a long time browsing, looking for a gift for Nigel and getting ingredients to cook dinner later. The day had been so peaceful so far she had felt more normal than she had in months. Her phone had received no more messages but she had come to find that normal from Dean. Part of her, however, had been hoping Sam might have been in touch. Then again he hadn't sent any messages since last week.

Deciding it was best she set off for home; she crossed the street and headed down the side walk. It was only a short distance back and before she knew it she was outside the front door, adjusting the bags she held so she could open it. As she pushed it open she heard the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen as though they had been knocked over.

'Hey Dad!' she called as she stepped into the hallway, trying the name out to see how it sounded. It sounded weird so she quickly changed it. 'Nigel, are you actually attempting to clean the old fashioned way?'

Placing her bags down on the bottom step of the staircase she wandered into the kitchen and stopped dead in the doorway. There were pans strewn across the kitchen floor. In the middle of them, lying in a pool of blood that originated from a wound in his chest was Nigel.

Molly's hand went up to her mouth as the scene sunk in.

As her senses returned to her, she ran into the kitchen, dropping to her knees beside his body. Her heart thumped in her chest as the tears came. As her mind raced trying to come to terms with the knowledge that just a couple of hours before he had been alive and well, smiling like a proud father, the thought occurred to her that whoever had done this could still be in the house.

That was when she looked up and saw the woman in front of her, eyes as black as night.

Molly screamed.

* * *

**Der der der...been a while since I felt like I wrote a decent cliffie. Hope it was decent anyway haha!**


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N - Fight! Fight! Fight! Ha, ha sorry coffee deprivation beginning to take its toll on my mental state! Just to clear up any confusing regarding timeline though I think it will be clear once you finish the chapters. We are now somewhere between the penultimate and finale episodes of season 5. **

**Enjoy**

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**Chapter Twenty**

The female demon before her smiled wickedly, blood dripping from her finger tips to the floor. Molly felt the anger building up inside her. She stood up; the demon waited watching her as she did so.

'You killed him,' Molly said accusingly, trying to keep her eyes on the demon and away from the body by her feet.

'You piss off Lucifer, you have to pay the price,' the demon said, looking down at the blood on her own hand before wiping it on the leg of the trousers she wore.

Molly put her left hand behind her back, tightening her grip on the knife that appeared in it the second she willed it. Nigel lessons had paid off, she barely had to think about it. The demon looked at her again, tipping her head to one side.

'It's taken me a rather long time to find you,' the demon said, taking a step forward. 'So it only seems fair that it takes me a long time to kill you.'

The anger taking over, Molly lunged forward slicing with the knife. She managed to cut the arm of the demon, for all the good it did. The demon didn't even wince, instead pushing Molly across the room without even touching her. Molly grunted as she slid across the kitchen table, the plates on it sliding off and crashing to the floor. She landed on the floor herself, pain shooting through her ribs as she hit the linoleum.

'You think you can hurt me with a toothpick like that?' the demon sneered.

From her position behind the table, the only thing between her and the demon, Molly could see the demon's feet stepping slowly around the floor towards her. She looked down at the knife in her hand; she needed to do something else. Scrambling back around the table in the opposite direction to the demon, she jumped to her feet and with a click of her fingers a shotgun with rock salt rounds materialised in her hand. She pointed it at the demon and fired.

The demon stumbled backwards, startled for a moment but she knew it wouldn't be long enough. Molly ran out of the door behind her, turning for a moment to look back towards the kitchen. A brick wall filled the doorway. Having no idea how long the illusion would last she ran into the hallway aiming for the front door, just to escape.

'Nice trick,' the demon said, appearing before her. _Shit, _she had forgotten they could do that.

Before Molly could react, a hand was around her throat, squeezing hard, lifting her into the air and slamming her back against the wall. She gasped, her legs flailing helplessly. She couldn't breathe, let alone concentrate to do anything to help herself. As the dark spots appeared in front of her eyes she began to realise this was it…again. She desperately wished she had told someone where she was.

'See, if you had co-operated the first time around,' the demon grinned, black eyes boring into Molly's blue. 'This would not have been necessary. Lucifer would have been your master. You could have had so much power…so much protection…'

The demon squeezed harder and Molly let out a strangled cry of pain.

'She's already got enough protection!' a deep voice bellowed, interrupting them.

Molly moved her blurring eyesight in the direction of the voice. The demon's arrogant grin fell and she turned her head to look.

'Dean Winchester,' the demon practically spat the words out.

'Got it in one,' Dean raised his eyebrows and shot a sarcastic grin at the demon.

The grip on Molly's throat was gone instantly and she fell to the floor as the demon let her go and focussed on Dean. Rubbing her throat she watched as Dean engaged in a fist fight with the demon though it hardly seemed a fair fight. Dean was being thrown around the room with a wave of the demon's hand. When he did manage to get some hits in however, he gave as good as he got.

Molly swallowed, her throat burning and looked around her, searching for a way she could help. Standing up, she waved her hands blocking each end of the hallway with another brick wall illusion, trapping the three of them in the space between. The demon would be unable to escape but then neither could she or Dean.

Dean who now stood at the kitchen end of the corridor she had created shot a quick look of surprise before turning his attention back to the demon who he had sent flying in the opposite direction to him with a particularly powerful kick. The demon stood, brushing herself off before marching towards Dean, ready for another blow. The demon seemed to be particularly enjoying the fist fight and had clearly forgotten about Molly for the time being. The possibility of killing a Winchester was probably too much of an opportunity to resist.

Molly glanced down at the demons feet clad in formal lace up shoes. She stared at the feet and in the next second, the demon was tumbling forward, the laces of each shoe having been instantly tied together. Dean took his opportunity, running forward and jumping onto the demons back, mumbling the exorcism rite at record speed.

With a howl, the demon's soul evaporated from the mouth of its host and crashed against the ceiling, vanishing from existence. Dean looked at Molly, his breathing heavy from exertion.

'Nicely done,' he said.

'I've been practising,' Molly said, exhaling sharply before her mind went back to Nigel.

She clapped her hands and the two walls she had constructed disappeared. Molly ran into the kitchen and dropped down beside Nigel's body again. His face had paled and the blood pool was starting to go tacky. She held his hand and pressed it against her face, sobbing harshly.

'Molly,'

She vaguely heard Dean's voice behind her. Normally she would have been ecstatic that he was there, it had been so long since she had seen either Winchester. Molly just continued to cry, the pain in her chest from the sobbing causing her to bend over double.

Dean put one hand on her shoulder, using his other to remove her grip on Nigel's cold hand. He turned her so she was facing him.

'Molly, I'm so sorry,' he said, gently pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms tightly around her as she sobbed into his chest.

After she had revealed her location in her message which he suspected had been an accident, he hadn't prepared himself for this. A dead father and a demon had been the last thing he had expected to see.

Molly was, understandably, devastated and Dean was just glad he had made it here in time, to stop anything from happening to her. He tightened his grip around her as her crying continued wishing he could take away her pain somehow.

'It's OK, I'm here now,' he said, hoping his words were more comforting than they sounded.

X X X

'How did you know where I was?' Molly asked, as Dean handed her the coffee he had made her.

It had taken some time but she had finally calmed down enough to allow Dean to lead her into the living room. He had watched, slightly in awe as she wiped her eyes and resumed her tough composure the minute she stood and left the kitchen. Since then she hadn't shed another tear, perhaps having grieved enough for the time being.

'Your message,' Dean said, sitting down beside her. 'You mentioned your father.'

Molly laughed softly. 'That was pretty stupid of me, huh? So much for laying low.'

Dean shook his head 'I'm glad you did. I got here just in time.'

Molly's face dropped slightly and Dean mentally kicked himself. He hadn't exactly gotten here in time. If he had he might have saved two people instead of one.

'I'm sorry,' he said looking down at his coffee.

'Hey,' Molly said, placing her hand on his. 'You can't save everyone, I'm glad you came.'

Dean looked at her incredulously. Here she was grieving, her birthday ruined and she was reassuring him?

'I got in the car as soon as I got your message,' Dean said. 'I needed to talk to you.'

'To get me to come back?' Molly asked although she had no intention of staying here now.

Dean nodded. 'Kind of…I don't know. It's still your call but you need to know some things have changed.'

'Like what?' Molly looked at him as though she had sensed the tone in his voice.

He sighed and looked her in the eye as he spoke. He wanted her to know he was deadly serious.

'Sam's going to say yes and I'm not going to stop him,'

The look of shock on her face was as he had expected. The punch to his face he had not considered, nor did he know she could punch so hard. His coffee sloshed over his leather jacket as he fell back with the force before he righted himself.

'I can't believe you. Why are you letting him say yes?' Molly screamed, slamming her mug down on the table. 'You have to stop him.'

'I am not letting him do anything!' Dean shouted back. 'Just give me chance to explain.'

Molly was looking at him fiercely, her blue eyes blazing with anger. Before she had chance to speak – or hit him – again, he started to tell her everything that had happened since they had last seen one another. He explained about the DVD message Gabriel had left them, about what they had been through to get the remaining rings and how they planned to use them to re-open the cage and get Lucifer back in hell, how Sam planned to say yes and try to keep control long enough to achieve the impossible.

By the time he had finished explaining, Molly had gone a deathly shade of pale and look as though she were fighting hard to keep her emotions in. Dean looked at her, wondering if he should say something else or wait for her to speak.

'So he's really going to do it?' she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Yeah,' Dean said, hating how painful it was to know Sam's days were numbered.

'Great,' Molly said, sarcasm rife in her voice as she looked down at the floor.

Dean took her hand and squeezed it.

'Sam doesn't know I'm here, I didn't tell him.' he said.

'So why are you here?' Molly looked up; her eyes had glazed over though her face was still determinedly neutral.

'Because I know how Sam feels about you. We all know that if he pulls this off, he isn't coming back and...' Dean stopped and looked down not wanting to see her face or for her to see his.

Molly put her hand on the side of his face, tilting his head up so he had to face her. He tensed his jaw, adamant that he was not going to break down about this when there was no other option and Molly had just lost her Dad.

'You're a good brother Dean,' Molly said, gently.

'How do you figure that one?' Dean retorted.

'You came to take me back to him before it's too late, I think that qualifies.' Molly smiled

Dean shrugged, embarrassed. 'Yeah, well, I'm awesome.' He quipped.

Molly dropped her hand and glanced towards the kitchen.

'We need to deal with…' she gestured with her hand. '…before we go.'

'We can take him with us to Bobby's,' Dean said. 'Give him a proper burial.'

Molly stood up and exhaled with finality.

'I'll go pack my stuff' she said.

X X X

Molly wanted to help but couldn't find the strength to. They had made it back to Bobby's just as night fell and Dean had driven straight around to where the salvage yard backed onto the cemetery. Dean had unloaded Nigel's body from the back seat of the Impala and placed him on top of a funeral pyre that looked as though it had been used recently. During their brief conversation in the car ride over, Molly had taken Dean's advice that salt and burn was better than burying him. It prevented any possibility of anything supernatural occurring afterwards and the last thing she wanted was for him to return as a zombie like Bobby's wife – Dean had explained the message he had sent about pie – or an angry spirit.

'You sure about this?' Dean turned to her, concern on his face.

'Absolutely, it's for the best right?' Molly said, pulling her jacket closer around her.

'I meant doing this before you see Sam. I could go get him,' Dean offered, taking a step away from the pyre and looking at her.

'No, I want to deal with this first then I can concentrate on Sam.' Molly said, firmly. 'The sooner the better.'

'You got it,' Dean said, taking his lighter from his jacket pocket and lighting the wood in front of them.

He took several steps back and joined her as the wood slowly started to burn, the orange flames flickering in the gaps between the logs, quickly catching on the sheet the body had been wrapped in. Molly wiped a stray tear from her face and took a deep breath.

'Thank you for this, Dean,' she said quietly.

He turned his head slightly and nodded solemnly.

X X X

Sam exhaled heavily and looked down at the glass of whisky in his hand. One glass was never going to be enough, one bottle wouldn't be enough. He was beyond scared but it was the only thing he could do to make sure Lucifer ended up back where he belonged. It was his fault, it only seemed right that he was the one to put him back.

He just wished he knew where Molly was. He understood why she left, but to go ahead with his plan without being able to see her one more time made it even harder. Lifting the glass to his mouth and tipping the liquid back he swallowed, feeling the burn in his throat as it went down.

Deciding he didn't want another drink, Sam turned around to put the glass in the sink. As he rinsed the glass slowly beneath the running water, something caught his eye. Looking up and out of the window he could see an orange glow off in the distance. It appeared to be coming from just beyond the end of the salvage yard.

'What the – '

It was a fire.

Sam turned and ran out of the kitchen, shooting past a confused looking Bobby sitting in his study talking to Castiel who was busy moping about his lack of powers. Thundering down the steps leading down from the front door, Sam ran around the back of the house and through the salvage yard, passing the piles upon piles of scrapped cars. Halfway through his trek to discover the source of the fire he realised he hadn't grabbed his gun from his jacket pocket which was still hanging on the back of a chair in Bobby's kitchen. He was also aware of how cold it was out being in just a t-shirt and his jeans, in his haste he really hadn't cared about wrapping up.

The glow became larger as he got closer and he was about to duck behind an old Ford pick up truck when he spotted the Impala parked nearby. Sam slowed down to a walk, his defences lowering as he came nearer to the car, knowing Dean must be nearby.

He discovered he was right as he spotted Dean standing in front of the pyre Bobby had used a few weeks ago for his wife. The glow from the flames cast his brother into a silhouette and he was motionless as he appeared to look up at the fire.

'Dean?' Sam called, causing his brother to turn. 'What are you - ?'

That was when he spotted the person beside him, previously obscured from view by Dean's height. Molly turned away from the fire and looked at him, the blaze of the fire highlighting the silver streaks on her face.

Sam opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, unable to think of anything to say. The corner of Molly's mouth twitched into a sheepish smile as though she were almost unsure as to how he would react. Sam felt a smile curl on his own face and he nodded, finally finding words.

'Get over here.'

Molly broke into a run and he stepped forward to meet her halfway, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground slightly as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. Sam exhaled the sigh of relief he felt he had been holding in for the last month and a half. Glancing towards Dean he mouthed 'thank you' to which Dean nodded in acknowledgement before walking back towards the Impala.

'Where the hell have you been?' Sam said as Molly leaned away from their embrace to look at him.

Molly looked towards the fire and then back at him, a tear in her eye again.

'With my father,' she said, the sadness on her face telling him everything he needed to know. 'He's…he…'

She didn't finish the sentence as she broke down. Sam pulled her close to him, stroking her hair as she clutched his t-shirt and sobbed into his chest.

'It's OK, you're here now,' he said and let her cry.

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**A/N - Ack, I love a reunion, think I'm going soft in my old age! Hope ur reaching for Kleenex and not the sick bucket!**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N - think I may have a teeny weeny timeline overlap/discrepency but I may be the only one who has noticed and I can't change it now anyway. Major fluff alert for this chapter but I hope I got away with it and that you feel warm n fuzzy inside - not nauseous (can't spell it)**

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**Chapter Twenty One**

Molly threw the last piece of pizza crust into the box and exhaled. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until Sam pulled the leftovers out of Bobby's fridge and told her she should eat.

'That better?' Sam asked, making a poor attempt at hiding the smile on his face.

They were both sitting at the kitchen table positioned so that they could face each other to talk but close enough that Sam could reach over at random intervals to hold her hand or move a stray hair from her face. Had it not been for the long space of time since they had last seen each other, Molly would ordinarily have been a little embarrassed by the frequency of the gestures of affection. It was almost as though he felt had he to make contact with her now and again just to check she wasn't a mirage.

As she finished her meal of chilled leftover pizza, he was sitting with his hands on the table, a half-smile on his face. It seemed surreal not only because it had been so long since she had seen him but also that the casual nature of sitting around a kitchen table contradicted with the seriousness of what loomed in the not so distant future. A topic they had yet to talk about. In fact he had avoided talking about anything with any particular weight. She had covered the topic of what happened to Nigel as they had stood watching his body burn after Dean had left them to be alone.

Their walk back to the house afterwards had been quiet, walking hand in hand through the mechanical graveyard of broken down vehicles that Bobby must have spent years accumulating. Molly had found the moment strangely peaceful with barely any sound from anywhere aside from their feet scuffing on the gravel as they walked.

'Hey, where are you?' Sam asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Molly laughed lightly. 'Nowhere, just thinking, it's been a long day.'

Sam lifted his hand and stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers. 'I know,' he said gently. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's not exactly your fault,' Molly said, taking his hand away from her face and intertwining her fingers with his. 'There's just so much we still need to talk about.'

Sam lowered his head slightly as though he was looking at their hands but Molly suspected he was trying to evade the subject somewhat. She couldn't blame him, she would do anything to make the moments they had together last longer without any of their problems resurfacing and spoiling the moment.

'Sam…' she prompted, trying to get him to say something.

'Let's not talk here,' Sam said, standing and tugging on her hand to make her join him.

Molly stood and smiled sadly at him, he was still avoiding looking at her and she wondered what he was so afraid of her seeing in his eyes. His gaze was directed to the kitchen door from where the open door to the study could be seen. Dean and Bobby were sitting on opposing sides of the older man's desk sharing a bottle of some kind of hard liquor. Dean glanced up towards them as they began to walk out of the kitchen. The expression on his face suggested he was curious as to what they had been talking about which as of yet was very little.

'Can you give me a minute?' Molly said, looking up to Sam.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before releasing his grip on her hand and heading towards the stairs. Molly looked after him for a short moment before continuing on to the study. Both men looked away as if to suggest they had not been secretly watching and wondering how things were.

'Hey Bobby,' Molly said, pulling up a chair and sitting on Dean's side of the desk.

As she did so, she glanced briefly at the sleeping form of Castiel on the couch on the other side of the room. It was the last thing she had expected to see the angel doing but she figured it was a long story she may not hear tonight. She had not yet spoken to Dean or Bobby since her return; her time had been taken up with Sam and the consumption of pizza. She was thoroughly confused by Castiel's slumber and also Bobby's lack of wheelchair. If she was honest, she was too exhausted to be asking questions and she had much more important things on her mind right now.

'Hey sweetheart. How are you holding up?' Bobby asked kindly, taking another glass from the drawer beside him and putting it in front of her.

'I'm OK,' Molly said, looking dubiously at the liquid Bobby poured into her glass. 'Worried about Sam.'

Dean scoffed. 'Join the club, honey.'

Molly threw him a mock-scowl before picking up the glass. She had a feeling she would not like the drink but with the conversation that was ahead of her, she figured she might need it. Taking a small sip, she restrained the curling of her lips that threatened to give away her distaste and set the glass back down in front of her.

'He's really going to go through with it,' Molly said, looking quickly from Bobby to Dean.

Bobby nodded and muttered something that sounded like 'yup' whilst Dean's response was to throw the rest of his drink down his throat in one gulp. Molly sighed and took another, larger sip of her own drink.

'So what happens now?' she said, putting the glass down again with a clunk.

'Now,' Bobby said, taking her glass away. 'You go be with Sam instead of sitting down here with two messed up wastes of space.'

'Hey!' Dean retorted. 'Speak for yourself.'

Bobby chortled and necked the rest of his drink before waving his free hand in the direction of the door.

'Seriously, go make up for lost time,' he said.

Molly nodded and stood up, looking towards the door.

'And keep the noise down!' Dean quipped.

'Dean, you're so vulgar sometimes,' Molly said, playfully slapping his shoulder.

As she walked out of the room she heard Bobby chuckle. She wasn't sure whether he was amused by her comment or Dean's. She knew Bobby hadn't meant anything sleazy when he told her to go be with Sam. He recognised that they had a lot to talk about; it was Dean that had to add the dirty undertone to the conversation.

Sam was sitting crossed legged on the double bed looking down at his hands where they rested in his lap when she walked into the bedroom. He had left the door open so he hadn't heard her come in.

'Hey you,' she said quietly although she knew it would take a lot more to startle him than suddenly realising there was someone in the room.

He lifted his head immediately in her direction and smiled gently.

'Everything alright?' he asked casually.

Molly shrugged. 'I guess so. You?'

Sam exhaled a light chuckle. 'I guess so.'

Silence descended on them as he gestured towards the space in front of him. Molly walked across the room and sat opposite him on the bed, crossing her legs also so that they were almost mirror images of one another, knees nearly touching.

'So…' Molly said, feeling suddenly awkward.

'So, I really missed you,' Sam said his warm green eyes meeting hers. She could see the sadness in them coupled with the gladness he clearly felt at her return.

'Really? You sure you weren't too busy fighting demons and gods and horsemen?' Molly smiled.

Sam rolled his eyes at her attempt at humour. 'No, I definitely missed you.'

Molly put her hand on his knee. 'I missed you too.'

He nodded but didn't smile. 'So I guess we should talk, huh?'

Molly sighed and looked down. 'Where do we start?'

'You understand that I still have to do this, right?' Sam asked.

'There's really no other choice?' Molly replied, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

'It's the only real plan we've found this whole time. We can get Lucifer's cage open but then we've got to push him in. The only way we can do that is if I say yes then I can take control and…'

'Dean already told me the detail,' Molly interrupted, snapping slightly without intending to. She didn't really want to hear it again.

Sam went quiet for a moment before brushing her hair away from her face where it had fallen as she had dropped her gaze down. Automatically she raised her head to look at him as he rested his hand on her cheek. He was looking at her with a determination as though it were fundamental to him that she understood and believed what he had to say.

'I know it's hard to believe but I will get control back, I will get him back where he belongs,' Sam said firmly not breaking eye contact once.

'But even if you do…' Molly said, feeling the tears beginning to burn at the edges of her eyelids. 'You go with him.'

Sam nodded and swallowed, his face firm as though he were remaining strong for her benefit.

'I will but I have to do this, it's the only way,' he said. 'The rest of the world literally depends on this.'

'But how will you even do it Sam?' Molly heard her voice raising and becoming higher pitched as the panic she was reigning in started trying to burst out. 'This is the devil we're talking about. He's strong, even if you try as hard as you can, how will you do it?'

Sam lowered his hand from her face and took hold of the one she had rested on his knee.

'Because I have so much to fight for,' he said. 'So much to hold on for and that's what gives me the advantage.'

Molly looked at him, puzzled by his speech. He gave another half smile.

'I have this completely dysfunctional family, right? I have Bobby, the eternally grumpy surrogate father...' he started to explain.

Molly nodded, feeling a sad smile creep across her face.

'…then there's my liquor swilling, bacon cheeseburger eating, womanising brother.…'

Molly couldn't help but laugh. 'Womaniser is a little harsh isn't it?'

Sam smiled in response. 'What I'm trying to say is that these are the things that I'll think about once Lucifer possesses me. I'll focus on the important things.'

Molly nodded. 'That sounds like a great plan but are you sure it'll work?'

'I don't know, focussing on Bobby and Dean may only do so much but they're my family. And then there's you…'

He paused and a different expression washed over his face. Molly raised one eyebrow slightly wondering if he was teasing her.

'Yeah and where do I fit in?' she asked.

'This dysfunctional family I'm describing…I can only hope that I'll hold on for my father figure, that I'll hold on for my brother…' Sam turned her hand over so that it rested on his knee palm up and dropped something into it.

She frowned at him confused and then looked down at her hand. Sitting in her palm was a silver ring set with a purple stone surrounded by smaller black stones.

'…but I'll definitely hold on for my wife.' Sam finished.

Molly exhaled, completely taken by surprise. She stared at the ring in her hand for a moment before looking up at Sam again, realising he hadn't said another word. His face held little expression aside from that of someone who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, an expression she had come to associate with him within hours of knowing him - an expression that had only deepened with recent events now that the fate of the world literally was his to bear.

Meeting his eyes, however, she found that she didn't see that. All she saw was everything she associated with him. The times they had shared together. Brief but intense memories that peppered their painful existences like miniature rays of hope. Their first meeting at the diner…the way he jumped to her defence at every instance…the night in the bar when he held her close and kissed her properly for the first time…the night they spent together…the love emanating from him as he held her as she took her last breaths. All the moments that really mattered.

As much as she had fought to keep them apart since her resurrection, she knew there was no way to bury her feelings, that this truly could be one of his last requests. Her answer would not be born from pity or obligation, however, but the mutual understanding and desire to recognise all she felt when those memories replayed in her mind. Somehow it seemed that this was the right and only way to acknowledge that their love existed, whatever might happen once he said yes.

Molly gently picked up the ring from her palm and slipped it onto the appropriate finger. Sam remained silent as she returned her gaze to him. Leaning up onto her knees she took both sides of his face in her hands and whispered her answer.

'Yes, without any shadow of a doubt.'

The smile of relief that washed over his face brought more tears to her eyes. She moved forward and pressed a firm kiss onto his forehead before wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly. She felt his arms wrap around her waist as he pulled her into his lap, nuzzling his face into her shoulder. He made no sound, said no words but the damp patch on the cotton of her shirt and the way his shoulders shook slightly told her all she needed to know. Vulnerability he would never allow his older brother to see.

At that moment Sam was happier than he had been in a very long time.

At that moment Sam was also more terrified than he had been in his entire life.

Molly squeezed her arms around him tighter, feeling her own tears begin to fall, wishing that if they sat here long enough, the world and all its impending doom would leave them be.

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**A/N - I said I was getting soft in my old age!**

**Chapter 22 is giving me major ass pain so may be a few weeks before that one is up but i think 4 chapters in one day makes up for it! :) **


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Sam smiled as he looked up to see Molly walking down the aisle towards him. It amazed him how quickly she had thrown the wedding together. Then again, it helped having the ability to create things from nowhere. Within ten minutes she had produced suits for Dean, Bobby and himself complete with buttonholes. The dress, however, she had clearly waited until the last minute to conjure up. He smiled even wider as he saw her coming towards him, a vision of beauty in a simple white dress that fit her curves perfectly to create a sophisticated look. Sam could swear there was light glowing around her. She returned his smile as their eyes met and she took another step, tears of happiness clearly glazing her eyes. Sam took a deep breath trying hard to control the shaking in his hands. He had no reason to be nervous, she wasn't about to leave him at the altar, he knew that.

All of a sudden Molly stopped in her tracks and the smile vanished from her face. Sam felt his stomach drop. He was wrong. She had changed her mind. Molly's expression twisted and he suddenly realised it was a look of pain. The bouquet she clutched in front of her fell from her grip and crashed to the floor. A line of red crept across her stomach from one side to the other as she gasped, the tears dripping down her face. As though in slow motion, her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor.

Standing in her place was Lucifer.

A wicked smile crawled across his face.

'You'll never win Sam.'

With a gasp, Sam's eyes shot open to see Molly sleeping peacefully in front of him. His heart still pounding from the nightmare, it took a moment or two to convince him it hadn't been real. Molly didn't seem to have heard him wake although he was sure he had cried out. Perhaps that had also been part of the dream. She looked content as she slept and now that the dream had faded into the realms of his mind he felt a wave of joy ripple through him. It was short lived as he remembered that waking up beside her like this every morning for the rest of his life would be limited to just this day. Tomorrow he would say yes to Lucifer.

He had to talk to Dean first.

Sam kissed Molly gently on the forehead so as not to wake her. The night before they had fallen asleep together, holding one another and trying not to think about what the future held. To just share the same space was the only comfort they had needed although he could guarantee Dean would be expecting some sordid details where there were none. They had not kissed since she had been resurrected for reasons which Sam now understood. Even getting engaged to be married had not changed that fact and, if he was honest, it didn't bother him. Firstly, the fact she had agreed to the commitment as short lived as it may be was more than enough for him, and second he was half afraid if they kissed she would talk him out of saying yes. Something about the way she looked at him a couple of times last night suggested she was holding back for that reason now also. Not that he wasn'tdying to hold her close and kiss her like there was no tomorrow!

With a sigh at the irony of his own speculation and a last glance at Molly's sleeping form to triple check that he definitely wasn't dreaming, Sam tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs to find his brother.

Dean was sitting at the kitchen table. Something about his body language suggested he and Bobby had indulged in a long night of heavy drinking and the cup of coffee in his hand wasn't the only thing he was nursing. Great, he's hung over, Sam thought before filling a mug for himself and sitting down opposite his brother.

'Hey,' Dean said croakily, looking wearily up at Sam. 'How's it going?'

Sam took a sip of his coffee, trying to delay his announcement for a few more seconds. It proved to be a mistake as Bobby wandered in to the kitchen looking equally as weary as Dean.

'Hey Bobby,' Dean mumbled, clearly having not noticed Sam's reticence.

Bobby pottered around getting himself a cup and filling it then looking in the refrigerator as if searching for food. He sighed irritably before joining them empty handed at the table although he didn't sit down. It seemed since the demon Crowley had returned the use of his legs to him in return for his soul; Bobby had been reluctant to return to a sitting position unless absolutely necessary.

'Bobby, do you know a priest?' Sam blurted out unable to go through the awkwardness of simply making the announcement. Sam foolishly tried to assure himself that dropping it into a random conversation was surely to have less of a shock factor.

Sombre looks washed over both Bobby and Dean's expressions. It took a brief moment for Sam to realise what it was. The pain they were trying to hide over the fact they were going to be parted from him. Their dysfunctional family was going to be broken up.

'You wantin' yer last rites readin' or somethin' boy?' Bobby responded at last, huffing out a fake-clearing of his throat to mask the hoarseness as he choked on the words.

Sam exhaled and found himself smiling weakly. It took all he had not to pull the pair of them into a reassuring embrace.

'No, nothing like that,' Sam said.

'Then what the hell you want a priest for?' Dean joined in, the harshness in his tone matching that of Bobby's. The two of them were freakishly alike, Sam thought, and he really was going to miss them.

'So I can get married,' Sam said simply, unsure of whether to smirk or be worried by the looks that crossed the faces before him.

X X X

Molly sighed, a smile stretching across her face. She didn't know it was possible to feel this happy even in the face of such a bleak future. Her knees trembled slightly as she stood in the doorway, adjusting the flowers in her hand. A reassuring pat on the shoulder from Bobby before he headed off to fulfil his best man duties suggested she looked more scared than happy. She had plenty reason to be scared, not just for the sheer fact that her marriage would literally last a day, not that she should be dwelling on that, but the fact she was wearing a pretty large meringue-esque dress. Why she had picked it was anyone's guess but in her defence they hadn't had time to be fussy.

Dean slipped his arm through hers, unexpectedly placing a kiss on her cheek.

'You look stunning, sweetheart. Are you ready?' he said gently.

With a deep breath she nodded and the music began. Whoever had burned the CD for the walk down clearly didn't know what they were doing. The song jumped all over the place, an unsettling staccato beat reverberating off the walls of the old, almost empty church. She rolled her eyes knowing that she could never have expected this to be anything but unorthodox.

Dean tugged ever so gently on her arm, prompting her to start walking. It amazed her that she even managed it; her legs were shaking so much she could feel her knees knocking together. A few more steps and she would reach the end of the aisle where she would turn and see Sam, a thought that made the knee knocking even more furious.

'Dearly beloved we are gathered here…'

Molly froze, confused. She glanced at Dean who was looking ahead to where he was walking. He didn't seem to have noticed that the minister appeared to have started the service slightly too early. Surely he wasn't supposed to start when the bride hadn't made it to the altar? The last thing she had been concerned about was having a dream wedding that ran smoothly but this was starting to get ridiculous.

Silently, Dean ushered her forward and she turned, ready to walk towards Sam. The sight before her made her freeze, this time in terror. The minister's words pounded in her ears.

'Do you Lucifer take Samuel Winchester to be your vessel for all eternity?'

Molly felt as though she might pass out any moment. Her entire body trembled and her heart was surely about to explode from all the hammering. The all too familiar face with its blistering skin looked right at her, a wry smile illustrating the evil within its host.

'I do,'

'SAM!'

Molly sat bolt upright in the bed as her own scream woke her. Blinking, her eyes readjusted to the light in the room as her brain made the re-connection with reality. The cold, empty church was gone, replaced by the warmth from the bright sunshine pouring through the window into the spare room at Bobby's.

Flexing her fingers to try and quell the shaking in her hands, she looked at the spot where Sam had lay and began to feel less uneasy. After regaining his composure the night before, Sam had gently lifted her from his lap, moving them so that they both lay on the bed closely facing each other. Molly had rested one hand against his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily through the cotton of his shirt. Sam had draped his arm around her waist to pull her closer before resting his forehead against hers. Molly didn't know how long they had lay that way but the last thing she remembered hearing was his whispered voice, speaking as though he thought she were already asleep.

'_You don't deserve this. I don't deserve you.' _

Molly blinked, casting away the threat of tears that came with the belated realisation of the words he had spoken. She needed to find him. His scent was still in the room and a quick placement of her hand on the empty side of the bed told her he hadn't long since left the room.

A muffled voice from downstairs caught her attention. She couldn't make out a word of what the person was saying or who was speaking but they didn't sound particularly happy.

Quickly hopping out of bed, she discovered her legs were still a little wobbly from the nightmare as she crossed the floorboards to the door and went out onto the landing. Now that she was closer to the stairs, she was able to make out that it was Dean doing the shouting though she still couldn't hear what he was grumbling about. Taking the stairs two at a time, remembering that her priority had been to find Sam, check that he hadn't left her for Lucifer quite yet.

The instant she reached the kitchen doorway, she realised Dean's grievance.

'You want to make her a widow, Sam?' Dean exhaled a bitter laugh as he stood up almost knocking his chair backwards. 'Because that's just cruel!'

Molly inhaled sharply as Dean's words hit her. As far as she could see, the only person being cruel was him. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her. Dean's burning with the defensive anger she had seen in him several times before, Bobby's of concerned sadness, Sam's as hurt as she felt.

Without a word, Molly crossed the threshold of the room and went straight to Sam, sitting in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. His strong arms returned the gesture, closing firmly around her back. She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes in an attempt to show him it didn't matter what his older brother thought.

Sam felt Molly go tense in his arms when she released him from the embrace and turned to face Dean. Instinctively he moved one hand to her back as though he were somehow trying to anchor her, protect her from the hurt she clearly felt from Dean's words. He was pretty pissed himself but he knew his brother, he would come around to the idea. Hell, it wasn't as though the two of them getting married would hurt any one.

'You want to talk about cruel?' Molly said slowly, a bitter tone to her voice that Sam had never heard from her before. 'Your brother…your _younger_ brother is preparing to sacrifice himself to prevent the end of the world and – '

'You think I don't know that?' Dean practically bellowed the word and Sam felt Molly twitch slightly but her face remained firm, making it clear she was not prepared to back down. 'You think I need reminding?'

Sam felt his stomach plummet at the sound of the raw emotion in Dean's tone. He knew how hard it had been when he lost Dean, that his brother was going to feel the same pain he had. It was one of the reasons he hadn't come to the decision lightly.

'Well, clearly you do or you wouldn't be acting like such a dick!' Molly shot back.

Dean scoffed. 'I always act like a dick, honey, get used to it!'

'Don't patronise me!' Molly snapped. 'Get your head out of your ass long enough to think about this!'

The room fell silent. Dean's jaw was set in the way it did when he was doing the macho-refusing-to-show-how-he-really-felt thing he often did. Molly was still glaring angrily at Dean but her body had relaxed slightly as though she were starting to realise what Sam already knew. Most of Dean's disapproval was a defence mechanism, a displaced reaction to how he felt about Sam's upcoming demise. His older brother knew that watching Sam get married would be bittersweet and as much as the older Winchester would never admit it, the emotions would be difficult for him to bear.

'You're not the only one that's going to lose Sam,' Molly said, her voice suddenly much softer, a slight wobble decorating the end of his name as she said it.

Sam moved the hand on her back in a gesture of comfort whilst taking one of her hands with his free one and squeezing gently. Though she didn't remove her eyes from Dean, she squeezed back. He looked up when Bobby unexpectedly left the room. The older man had not uttered a word since the show down between Dean and Molly had begun. Sam figured he had decided to give the three of them some space.

Glancing back from where Bobby had walked, Sam realised Dean's expression had softened, almost in defeat as though he couldn't take the weight of the emotion much longer. It was a jolting reminder of the time he had finally broken down and revealed what had happened to him in hell.

'I know,' Dean said quietly, eyes fixed firmly on Molly. 'I'm sorry.'

'Just let us have this,' Molly whispered. 'Please.'

Sam felt a lump form in his throat at the pleading in her tone. Dean's expression was grave; Sam could see he was still fighting back the pain he felt. He gave a slight nod of agreement, the action freeing one rebel tear to roll down his cheek. No sooner had it fallen than Dean swiped it away with his hand and cleared his throat.

'I guess congratulations are in order,' he mumbled.

Molly leapt up from Sam's lap and crossed the space to throw her arms around Dean's neck. He returned the embrace, looking over her shoulder at Sam. Standing, Sam nodded to his brother in understanding. Dean would never deny Sam anything, and Sam knew that. Dean was just afraid of life without Sam.

Sam stepped forward and put his hand on Molly's back again, prompting her to release Dean and turn to face him. He swiped the tear from her cheek and smiled gently at her.

'You ok?' he asked.

She nodded and slipped her arms around his middle holding on to him tightly. Sam didn't care that this type of affection would normally make Dean roll his eyes, he had only a little time left with her and he was going to make the most of it. He tangled one hand in her hair and kissed the top of her head, his heart heavy with the cocktail of emotions they were both feeling.

The intense emotional atmosphere in the room was suddenly dispersed by the return of Bobby who came marching into the room followed closely by Castiel who - judging by the state of his hair - had just woken up.

'Guess y'all kissed and made up?' Bobby said gruffly sounding significantly surprised. 'Didn't take you idjits as long as I thought it would.'

'Thanks, Bobby,' Dean said sardonically. 'I think.'

'Where'd you go?' Sam asked.

'To make a phone call,' Bobby said sounding exasperated. 'You want to get married today or not?'

Molly could have kissed Bobby right then and there but thought better of it. It was amusing how he could appear so stern and disapproving even whilst making the sweetest of gestures. She smiled broadly, feeling the stress of moments earlier leaving her and relief relaxing her.

'Thank you Bobby,' she said.

'You're welcome sweetheart,' he replied in the affectionate tone he seemed to only use with her. His eyebrows lifted suddenly as though something occurred to him. 'Oh, I nearly forgot!'

Turning he took something from Castiel that Molly hadn't noticed him holding before. Cas was very quiet, clearly not a morning person…angel…whatever she was supposed to call him now, so she hadn't taken much notice of him when they entered the room. Bobby carefully took what she now realised was a garment bag and handed it to her.

'It was my wife's dress,' he said, quietly, his eyes lowered probably so that he didn't have to look at Sam or Dean.

'Thank you,' Molly said, deeply touched by the gesture, carefully draping the bag over one arm.

Clearly not wanting the sentimental moment to last any longer than necessary, Bobby cleared his throat.

'You two!' He barked, snapping his fingers at Sam and Dean causing them to jump slightly. 'Pastor Michael's, 3 o'clock, make sure you iron your tuxes and don't be getting wasted before hand.'

With that, he turned and left the room again, Molly assumed to go and find his own suit to wear.

'Jeez,' Dean pulled a face. 'Who died and made him Jennifer Lopez?'

'Who's Jennifer Lopez?' Castiel spoke for the first time.

Molly nearly laughed out loud at Dean's expression in response to Castiel's question. Apparently at a loss for words, the older Winchester shook his head sadly and walked past the angel and out of the room.

Castiel looked completely bemused before turning and following where Dean had gone.

Castiel's voice faded away as he exited the room to catch up with Dean, calling out 'What? I don't understand the reference!'


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N - song featured is bloodstream by Stateless. Haven't proof read this chapter since I finished writing it so probably full of mistakes!**

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**Chapter Twenty Three**

Sam looked in the mirror and fidgeted. He had worn this tux a couple of times for whatever undercover scam Dean and he were pulling at the time but it suddenly felt as though it didn't fit right. The collar rubbed at his throat and the shoulders of the jacket felt unusually close fitting. To top it all off, he couldn't get the bowtie right - partly because every time he tied it, it ended up at a jaunty angle and partly because his fingers wouldn't stop shaking. With an irritated sigh he threw the tie down onto the dresser in front of him.

'Sammy, chill out.'

Sam looked up to see Dean's reflection in the mirror. He stood in the doorway, a bottle and two short glasses in his hand. Apparently Dean had had no difficulty in the tux department. It was weird to see his brother in formal wear but somehow he still pulled it off. In a way it was annoying that he never seemed uncomfortable whilst Sam felt like a square peg in a round hole most of the time.

'I am chilled,' Sam lied, picking up the tie again and starting to fix it again.

He heard Dean chuckle from behind him followed by his footsteps as he crossed the room and placed the glasses and the bottle down on top of the dresser.

'Here, let me do it,' Dean said, hitting Sam lightly on the arm.

'I don't need you to…' Sam started before grunting with frustration as his trembling fingers made him lose his grip again.

Defeated he turned to his brother. Dean picked up the abandoned ends of the bow tie and started the combination of loops and pulls that were needed.

'So, pre-wedding jitters?' Dean asked, looking pointedly at Sam.

Sam half laughed. 'I guess so, it's stupid, huh?'

'Nah, a little pansy maybe but not stupid.' Dean said with a smile.

With a final tug he straightened out the bowtie and stood back.

'There you go little brother.'

Dean stood quietly for a moment looking at him as though he were considering saying something else. Sam knew this was Dean's way. When there was something hard or emotionally straining that he wanted to say, this is usually what happened.

Sam nodded silently before moving to sit on the end of the bed so that he could slide his feet into his newly shined shoes. As he tied the laces, Dean unscrewed the lid from the bottle he had brought and poured a considerably large measure of the liquid into each glass.

'Here,' he said, holding out a glass. 'I know J-Lo said no drinking but, hell, consider this your bachelor party!'

Sam rolled his eyes as he fastened the last of his laces and stood up, taking the glass from his brother. Dean raised his glass slightly in the air as a toast.

'Here's to you not messing up your vows,' he said.

'Thank you Dean,' Sam said, sarcastically. 'That's really beautiful. It's probably a good thing that I don't expect you to do a speech as my best man.'

Dean's eyebrows went up slightly. Sam was amused to find he was actually surprised.

'Me? Your best man? Really?'

'Yeah,' Sam said. 'You really didn't see that coming?'

Dean shrugged. 'I guess I just figured you would ask Bobby.'

Sam sighed and looked down at the liquid in his glass, swirling it around slightly as he thought.

'Dean, you've been by my side pretty much my whole life. I couldn't imagine anyone else doing the job.' he said, waiting a second before looking up.

Stupid kid brother, why'd he have to go and say that? Dean fought against the thick feeling forming in his throat. It was hard to deny that he was honoured to stand by his brother but it was just as hard to ignore the twang of pain he felt every time he thought about what tomorrow would bring. As his brother's best man he was supposed to be able to toast to the future, to wish him a long and happy life with Molly but both of those things were out of the question now. Instead he cleared his throat to dispel the thickness and raised his glass again.

'To you and Molly,' he said, tapping his glass against Sam's.

Sam nodded. 'Thanks man.'

They both knocked back their drinks in one gulp. Dean glanced at his watch as he placed his glass back down on the dresser.

'We better get moving,' he said. 'Or Bobby'll be on our asses!'

Dean headed for the door, checking his pocket for his car keys. Turning slightly at the top of the stairs he could see Sam through the doorway of the bedroom. He was checking his reflection in the mirror, smoothing down his hair. Dean waited a moment to commit the image of his little brother preparing for his wedding to memory before calling out to him to hurry the hell up.

On the drive over to the church, Dean sat quietly behind the wheel staring at the road ahead of him. He wasn't sure what to say. Any attempts to make jovial conversation about the wedding would seem forced and only serve to remind of what would follow after today. On the other hand, sitting in silence seemed to exaggerate the great elephant that was sitting in the corner, so to speak.

A quick glance at Sam in the passenger seat made Dean wonder what was going through his mind. His little brother was looking out of the window, his chin resting on his fist. Dean opened his mouth to say something then realised he had nothing, nothing that wouldn't start up an awkward or difficult subject anyway. He sighed heavily and fixed his eyes back on the road.

'Dean, stop it,' Sam said suddenly.

'Stop what?' Dean attempted to sound relaxed as though he were simply taking in the scenery and that today was not laden with emotion.

'I know this is hard man, I'm not deluded.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Dean lied, blinking against the stinging feeling at the edges of his eyes.

'Just…just let this be a good day,' Sam said, his voice quiet.

Dean stole a glance at him. 'You saying I'm going to ruin your wedding?'

'No!' Sam sighed, slightly irritably. 'I mean don't dwell on tomorrow, I want you to enjoy this as if it were a normal day. Be happy for me.'

Dean kept his eyes fixed on the road a little longer. What Sam was asking was so difficult but then again what Sam had to do was probably much more difficult. The last thing he wanted to do was make things any worse. He would have to be selfless and ignore the gash in his chest that felt as though it were growing wider with every passing minute.

'Dean…' Sam began as though to prompt a reaction from him.

'I am happy for you Sammy,' Dean said quickly, looking firmly at him. He added a firm pat to Sam's shoulder to punctuate his support.

Sam smiled slightly. It took everything Dean had not to notice the sadness that underlined his brother's smile. He was happy for him, glad that Molly brought a smile to Sam's face even in the wake of everything they had been through. When Sam had lost Molly Dean had thought that was it that he had given up and there would be no getting him back. Even now she was back, Dean couldn't help but feel whenever something remotely good started happening to Sam, something tragic would come along to join the party. First there was Jessica, then Madison. Now it was Sam's turn…

A dull punch to his arm jolted him out of his thoughts.

'Seriously dude, at least try. You're starting to turn into me!' Sam snapped but there was no animosity in the tone. The smile he cracked to go along with it gave Dean the push he needed. Right now Sam was happy and that was as much as Dean could ask for.

'Alright, let's do this bad boy!' Dean quipped turning the wheel and pulling up in front of the church.

It was a dreary little old church that Sam was sure would probably be cold and damp inside with a slight musty smell but he didn't care. This wedding wasn't about the flashy things. No expenses, just the two of them with the people who mattered. It would be the smallest, cheapest wedding in the history of weddings but it made him feel as though he had won slightly. A small rebellious gesture to Lucifer that he may get to possess his body but his mind and his spirit were his own. He didn't voice this to Dean, he could almost picture the eye roll he would get from his brother, but knowing that he was getting the chance to confirm his love for Molly and spend one last perfect day with her gave him the strength he needed to still go through with saying yes.

'Dude, will you get a move on?' Dean called.

Sam looked up from his thoughts to see that Dean was already standing on the top of the steps that led to the door. Sam exhaled and smoothed his hair one more time before jogging up the steps to join his brother and go inside.

By the time he stood alone waiting at the altar, Sam's anxieties had gone. It seemed as though if he had to do one thing right in his lifetime, this was it. There were no nerves that he was about to screw this up, no fear that Molly wouldn't come. He wondered how many couples felt this confident on the day they got married.

Bobby had done a good job of hiding Molly from him at the house and had even taken the time to go buy two silver wedding bands for him. It was almost comical how bossy the old hunter had become and Sam had started to agree with Dean's quips about the man's behaviour. Despite this, Sam was touched that Bobby seemed to have been filling in the role of father where their own could not. Sam looked up at the large wooden cross in front of them, suspended on the wall. He hoped, wherever he was, that his father could see him, gave his blessing.

He turned his head to look behind him to see Dean trotting up the short aisle to reach him, shortly followed by Pastor Michael and Castiel who took a seat in the church, looking as though he felt extremely uncomfortable. Dean patted Sam on the arm and nodded as if to let him know it was time before taking his place to one side of him. Sam took a deep breath and turned around fully, watching and waiting for her to appear. He hoped his nightmare had been just that and not a random return of his old psychic powers. God knows, when he had dreamt about Jessica he wished he had been more freaked out. Perhaps then she would still be alive. But then he wouldn't be here about to…

His mind went blank when he saw her walking towards him, her arm linked through Bobby's. The dress he had loaned her was a simple off the shoulder white dress but it suited her perfectly. Sam knew she wasn't one for wearing dresses but in this instance it was as though it were nothing unusual for her. In her hand she carried one red rose and her black curled hair was down, covering the tops of her shoulders exposed by the dress.

Beside him he heard Dean let out a low whistle of admiration which only made Sam smile more than he already was. Sam waited whilst Bobby kissed Molly on the cheek then released her arm. Then he stepped forward and took her hand, eyes meeting hers for a moment, silently speaking to her. She nodded slightly and smiled widely before they both turned, fingers entwined, to face the pastor.

Molly was barely aware of the words that the pastor was saying. They were the traditional 'dearly beloved yada yada' but all she could focus on was Sam and trying not to cry through the vows. She was more than glad that they had decided to do this, she couldn't imagine agreeing to marry anyone else but there was still the little dark cloud hovering on the back of her consciousness reminding her that the happiest day of her life was about to be followed by the darkest.

Sam seemed to sense her tension, his thumb made circles on the back of her hand as she spoke, her voice faltering on 'until death us do part.' She could have kicked herself for being so cliché but she knew that deep down Sam was thinking the same.

The whole ceremony was very surreal and although she knew that Dean, Bobby and Castiel were sitting and watching, she felt as though they were alone. It also seemed to pass much quicker than she thought it might and the pastor's voice felt further away like it was an echo of background noise.

'…I pronounce you man and wife.'

The pastors words brought her back to reality slightly as she realised this was it. They had made it through without tears or surprise visits from Lucifer. Sam released her hand and placed both of his on either side of her face, looking gently at her as though seeking permission first. She was about to move to cross the small space between them when Castiel appeared beside them, distracting both of them.

'Cas what are you - ?' Sam started to speak but was stopped by Castiel.

The angel took Molly's free hand and one of Sam's and quickly spoke. She couldn't understand a word he was saying but she knew it was Enochian. She didn't think that even Sam knew what Castiel's words meant. No sooner had he started speaking than he released their hands and nodded slightly.

'Carry on,' he said finally speaking in English.

Molly looked back at Sam again who looked as bemused as she felt. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, looking almost bashful. Molly stepped forward taking his face in her hands and pressed her lips firmly against his. Since the moment she had awoken from her resurrection she had been desperate to kiss him again but had stepped away from every opportunity. Sam appeared to have been taken by surprise for a split second before his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss.

Some things were worth the wait.

XXX

'We need cake!' Dean announced placing his beer bottle down on Bobby's kitchen table loudly.

Sam looked at Bobby who rolled his eyes and shook his head. The older Winchester, when he wasn't thinking with his downstairs brain, he was thinking with his stomach. That coupled with the fact Dean was well into his second six-pack of Budweiser. The somewhat low-key after party was in full swing.

'I think cake is a great idea!' Molly said enthusiastically sitting up in Sam's lap where she had previously been leaning against him.

Sam was amused but also finding he hated any moment where she was more than a few inches from him. He took a long gulp from his own beer as Molly stood up.

'What kind do you want?' she asked.

'Hey,' Sam said, tugging on her hand and pulling her back into her lap. 'You're not going out and leaving me,' he said jokingly.

'Aww,' Molly cooed sarcastically before kissing him. Sam lifted his empty hand to the back of her head as he kissed her back, savouring the moment.

'Oh please!' Dean slurred. 'I get that you just got married but I really want cake, before I throw up from having to watch the two of you!'

Sam smirked and pulled away.

'Go get your own cake!' he said as Molly stood from his lap again.

'Oh Sam,' she said with a mock condescension in her tone. 'Aren't you forgetting something?'

With that, she clicked her fingers and a sizeable two tiered wedding cake appeared on the table. Dean's eyes widened.

'Is it chocolate?' he asked, reaching to stick his finger in the icing.

'Umm…' Molly shrugged and clicked her fingers again. 'It is now!'

Sam felt himself rolling his own eyes as Dean stumbled to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a knife. Despite his wobbly movements from his large consumption of beer, Dean made it back to the table and cut himself a large slice in record time. Molly settled herself back in Sam's lap. He pressed a kiss on her shoulder before resting his chin there, trying hard not to laugh at Dean as he tucked into the cake.

Sam looked at the scene around him, trying to commit it all to memory. He had a theory that the more happy memories he held onto, the stronger he would be when the time came. It was a romanticised notion, he knew that but he had to hope. That along with the content feeling that came with watching his loved ones. Dean, drunkenly munching on cake, Bobby taking a bottle of whisky down from the top of his refrigerator and pouring some shots now that the beer was all but finished with, Castiel sitting quietly with a beer bottle in his hand looking as uncomfortable as ever. Then there was Molly, the warmth of her close to him, the scent of her shampoo on her hair, all small details that he wanted to hold onto to anchor him to reality when Lucifer took over.

'Hey Cass,' Sam said, something suddenly occurring to him.

The angel looked up. 'Yes?'

'What did you say…in the church?' Sam asked.

All eyes in the room flicked to look at Cass. Even Dean put down the knife he was about to cut a second slice with to watch. The angel smiled gently, a knowing expression on his face before shaking his head.

'I do not need to tell you,' he said mysteriously.

Dean groaned and started hacking off another piece of cake.

'Boy, are you high?' Bobby asked gruffly causing Dean to pause with his second slice halfway to his mouth.

'What? I'm just hungry!' Dean protested.

'You're always hungry, you got a tapeworm or something?' the old hunter continued to grumble.

'What is this? Pick on Dean Day?' Dean shot back, sounding irritable.

'Bobby has a point,' Castiel cut in. 'you do eat a lot.'

Sam moved his lips close to Molly's ear.

'Come on, let's go,' he whispered, giving her a little nudge to stand up.

He took her by the hand and led her quickly out of the room, leaving the three of them behind to argue about Dean's eating habits. As much as he wanted to stay and view the comedy moments passing between the three men, he was aware how quickly the day had moved into the evening and the sun had gone down.

'Aw, I was enjoying the free entertainment,' Molly said with a smile, linking her fingers with his as Sam pulled her towards the stairs.

'I know,' he said, stopping on the bottom step and turning to kiss her. 'But I wanted to spend some time with my wife.'

Molly smiled. 'Wife…I could get used to hearing that.'

Sam felt a tug in his chest when he saw her smile drop as she realised the irony of her words. He trailed the back of his fingers down the side of her face before stopping beneath her chin.

'Hey,' he said softly, tilting her chin so her eyes had to meet his. 'Don't worry about that, come with me.'

She nodded and he took her hand again leading them up the stairs to the spare room they had slept in the night before. He pushed the door open, flicking on the light and stepping into the room, releasing her hand as she followed him. Crossing to the dresser he turned his iPod on, scrolling through the playlist.

'Sam, what are you doing?' he heard Molly ask after the door clicked shut.

'I figured it was only right we got to have our first dance,' he said, turning back to face her as the first notes of the piano line began to play through the speakers of the speaker dock. 'But I didn't want it in front of those idiots downstairs.'

He stepped forward and slipped one hand around her waist, moving her closer to him as she placed a hand on his shoulder and took his free hand in hers. She rested her head on his chest as they swayed slightly. The piano lines continued, a somewhat haunting but heartfelt melody that Sam felt mirrored both the joy and pain he was feeling.

'Sad song,' Molly mumbled against his chest. 'Sad but beautiful.'

Sam leaned back slightly so he could look at her. 'It's ok though, right?'

Molly smiled and placed a short gentle kiss on his lips. 'It's perfect.'

He smiled as she settled her head back against his chest and they continued to move to the music as the vocal line kicked in. Sam thought back to the last time they had danced like this although it had been a bit less private and they had both been a lot more intoxicated. This time it was as it should be, just the two of them, moving to the music, the only voice that of the singer.

'…_and the silence surrounds you and holds you…I think I might have inhaled you, I can feel you behind my eyes, you've gotten into my bloodstream, and I can feel you flowing in me…'_

They moved silently for a little while longer until Sam felt moisture on his shirt. He shifted slightly, placing his finger under Molly's chin to lift her head again. Silver streaks lined both sides of her face, causing a lump to form in his throat.

'Please don't cry,' he whispered, inhaling sharply as he fought off his own tears.

'I'm sorry,' she said quietly. 'This day has been perfect. I just can't stop thinking how we won't have any more like this.'

Sam nodded 'I know but at least we have this day, huh?'

Molly smiled weakly as another large tear dripped from her face, the song lilting in the background. Sam leaned down and kissed her cheek where the tear fell, holding his lips there for a moment. Molly's hands slid to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his hair.

'How can you be so strong?' she whispered, her breath brushing past his ear.

He inhaled slowly before moving back so he could look into her eyes. He could feel the streaks of his own tears now working their way down his face. Molly moved one hand from where it rested on the back on his neck and brushed them from his face.

'Because I have you,' he said before reclosing the gap between them and pressing his lips against hers kissing her firmly but tenderly.

She returned the kiss, tightening her arms around his neck and moving closer to him, if it were possible for them to be. Sam mirrored the embraced, his arms wrapped around her waist, almost lifting her from the floor as they kissed. He was aware that there was still so much he hadn't said to her or told her. He hadn't told her how beautiful he thought she looked in the dress…or how much he loved her…

Molly hands moved, sliding his jacket from his shoulders so that it dropped to the floor as the last few notes of the song began to play. The broken notes of a minor chord slowing in pace as each one repeated, each one individual but together the parts of a whole.


End file.
